The Dishonored Ones
by n00btmntfan
Summary: After a civil protest gone terribly wrong, Lasan is under attack. Zeb must do his duty and protect his planet from the Empire's onslaught; Kallus must do his duty and investigate alleged war crimes, only to find himself in the thick of the conflict. Both must ask: Is there any honor to be found in the aftermath? The Siege of Lasan. Rated T for violence and mild language.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors' Note: This fanfiction is the result of a collaboration between me (n00btmntfan) and fellow fanficcer tpt player 5701. We've been wanting to do a** _ **Star Wars Rebels**_ **fic together for quite some time now, and here it finally is! While we both had a hand in everything—including outlining the plot—the scenes from Zeb's POV are predominantly written by n00btmntfan and the scenes from Kallus' perspective are largely written by tpt player 5701. Thank you so much for reading, and we hope you enjoy this story!**

 **Another note! This story is unfinished because tpt player 5701 was unable to finish working on it with me. Maybe someday we'll finish it up, but for now it's done. You may still enjoy reading it.**

 **My apologies for this. Life has been crazy for both of us.**

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 **Disclaimer:** _ **Star Wars Rebels**_ **, all related characters, and all derived works are the intellectual property of Disney XD, Disney, and Luscasfilm. This story is for entertainment purposes and not for monetary gain. In no way should this story be taken to be anything other than a fan-based expansion of and commentary on the source material. n00btmntfan and tpt player 5701 are in no way associated with the makers of Star Wars Rebels.**

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Garazeb Orrelios stood in the palace briefing room, his shoulder muscles tight with stress. It had always struck Zeb as ironic that life on Lasan _after_ the Clone Wars was more difficult than during.

Queen Rassala Eladarren looked over at the holographic display of Lasan City, her eyes falling on the outline of the Imperial Compound. "We must deal with this as soon as possible. The word is that the demonstrations are to take place at sunset. These discontents cannot be allowed to jeopardize our already tenuous relationship with the Empire. I have ordered that the military suppress these demonstrations in all key cities." She looked across the display table at the young Lasat in royal military regalia. "Well, Trazel, you have been begging me for a proper military assignment for a month now."

"So I have," Prince Trazel said, folding his arms. He frowned.

"Then I trust you will carry it out with all due diligence?"

The Prince immediately snapped to attention, clapping his fist against his palm and bowing. "I will not let you down, Mother."

The Queen smiled gently. "Good. Captain Orrelios will accompany you to provide additional security—under your full command, of course."

Zeb saluted. "Yes, your Majesty."

Frowning slightly, the Prince glanced at Zeb. "I have Lahlin and Artik." He motioned to the two members of the Honor Guard who flanked him. "You needn't worry for my safety. And I have Lieutenant Seck. I don't need Captain Orrelios on this mission."

"He _will_ accompany you. Understood?"

"Understood." The Prince clapped his left fist against his right palm again and bowed. "I shall depart at once." He signaled Lahlin and Artik, and the three of them strode from the room together.

Zeb bowed to the Queen, then turned to follow the Prince.

"Captain Orrelios, a word?" the Queen said.

Zeb stopped immediately and turned around. "Yes, your Majesty?"

"Trazel is young and brash. I trust you will keep him in check for me?"

A smile crept onto Zeb's lips. "Of course. It'll be my pleasure. It'll be just like the old days."

"He will be unsure of himself. He will need your guidance."

"And I'll do my best to give it."

"Thank you, Captain Orrelios. There is no one I trust with this more than you."

Zeb clapped his fist to his palm and bowed deeply. "Your trust honors me, your majesty." He stood tall again.

The Queen gave him a wave of dismissal.

With another bow, Zeb turned and hurried from the briefing room into the main hall. The Prince was barking orders to Lieutenant Seck, who saluted and ran from the hall. In all of Zeb's memory, the Prince had never looked so pale or so nervous, not even a month ago, when he was appointed into the military at the age of eighteen.

The Prince motioned to Zeb. "Ready to go, old man?"

 _Readier than you are, I reckon,_ Zeb thought, suppressing a small smile. "At your word, Highness."

"My lieutenant is readying a hundred men. We'll depart as soon as the personnel transports are loaded up."

Zeb raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

A hundred men seemed excessive, but it would be a substantial show of force. It was also a substantial show of the Prince's insecurity on the matter. However, it was hardly Zeb's place to question the Prince on this point. "Nothing, Highness."

The Prince shook his head. "My first military assignment, and my mother decides I need a babysitter."

"Not a babysitter. An escort. For your safety, Highness."

"Yes, and I'm sure my mother said nothing to you about keeping an eye on me when she held you back just now."

"With all due respect, what her Majesty says to her own Honor Guard isn't your concern."

The Prince opened his mouth, but Seck ran into the hall, interrupting him.

"We are ready to depart, your Highness," Seck said.

"Good." The Prince turned back toward Zeb. "Well, Captain Orrelios, I'm sure you won't forget who is in command on this mission, then."

"Of course I won't."

"Good." The Prince signaled to Seck. "Move out."

The men proceeded into the heavy personnel transports, packing in as tightly as possible. Seck hopped up into the transport behind the royal transport.

Zeb fell in step behind the Prince as they went, clambering into the royal transport after he did. The other two Guardsmen assigned to the Prince followed after them. Lahlin winked at Zeb, who winked back with a little grin.

As the transports engaged the anti-grav drive and sped off toward the Imperial Compound, the Prince gave Zeb a sideways glance, and opened his mouth as if to say something. He closed his mouth and shook his head.

"Is something wrong, Highness?" Zeb said.

"It's just—this would be a lot easier if I didn't agree with them so much."

"With the dissidents?"

"Yes. Look at what the Empire has done to Lasan, Captain Orrelios. For centuries, our people have been free to bear arms, and now the Empire demands that only the military be permitted to do so?"

Zeb bit his lip for a moment. "The Queen says that the Empire insists it's for a safer public."

The Prince scoffed. "That's the problem. They come in without knowing a thing about our culture, and they change not just our laws but our _identity_ , and tell us it's for our own good. As if we're children, too stupid to handle responsibility. It's insulting. It's worse than insulting."

"He's right," Lahlin said, scowling. "Blasted Imperials have no respect for us. Probably only a matter of time before they disarm the military, too."

"Watch yourself, Lahlin," Zeb said. "You're talking out of turn again. Just 'cause we're friends doesn't mean I won't put you on suspension."

"Sorry, Sir." Lahlin grinned. "Won't happen again."

Zeb tried not to smile. "Yeah, that's what you said last time, too, after I put you on suspension."

"Well," the Prince said, "he's not far off, I'm guessing. And now it's my job to go tell these people that no, they need to give up their blasters, heirlooms and all? I might even have to use force against them. It doesn't seem right."

Zeb scratched his chin for a moment. Diplomacy had never been his strong suit—and had he been talking with Lahlin about this over a couple of pints of ale, he would have much harsher things to say on the topic. "I agree with you, Highness. Really, I do. But the Queen says we have to think of the overall welfare of Lasan. What's worse for us—the people losing their blasters, or bringing the Empire's fist down on us all?"

"I never figured you as the type to roll over and follow the Empire's orders blindly, Captain Orrelios."

A surge of anger shot through Zeb. "I don't follow the Empire's orders." He clenched his fists. "I obey the Queen of Lasan, and if she tells me to bend over backward and lick the Emperor's backside, I will! You'll obey her too, if you know what's good for you."

The Prince's mouth fell open. "You have no right to talk to me that way."

"And you've no right questioning my loyalties _._ You think you can get away with insulting me like that, just 'cause you're the Prince?"

"I wasn't—"

"You _were_ insulting me. I've been in the Honor Guard longer than you've been alive, Trazel. My loyalties are with Lasan to the end. You ever question that again, and we'll be having more than just words."

"I am the _Crown Prince._ I could have you hanged for that kind of disrespect."

Zeb laughed aloud. "Your mother'd never sign off on it, and you know it."

The Prince stared Zeb down for one moment, then let out a chuckle. "No, no she wouldn't." He shook his head. "Forgive me for what I said. I'm just—so tense about this mission. It's—well, it's my first, you know, and there's so much riding on it…"

Zeb gave the Prince an evaluating glance. _Still,_ he thought _, that's no reason for you to be a little snot rag._

"Please, Zeb," the Prince said. "I'm sorry."

A little smile crept onto Zeb's face. When was the last time the Prince had even called him that? It must have been over eight years ago, before Zeb was promoted to the Captaincy—when he had been in the same place as Lahlin and Artik. Half personal guard, half babysitter, it had been one of the more challenging roles in the Honor Guard. It was watching over Trazel that gave Zeb a taste of what fatherhood might be like—though it turned out that _some_ children took more energy than others.

Lahlin elbowed Zeb, snapping him back into the moment.

"Consider it forgotten, Highness," Zeb said, bowing slightly. "Tell you what—I don't tell the Queen what you said about me, and you won't tell her that I disrespected you. Fair deal?"

The Prince grinned widely. "Our old deal is always a fair one, Captain Orrelios."

"It's done, then. As I said, I agree with you. But Lasan's overall welfare is a priority."

"Do you really believe this is in Lasan's best interest?"

"What we believe doesn't matter. What matters is we have orders."

The Prince leaned in toward Zeb. "How do you do it?" he whispered. "How do you enforce an order you doubt?"

"It's never easy," Zeb said, placing his hand on the Prince's shoulder. "But you have to stand tall and give the order like it's your own. Trust the Queen. Trust her wisdom and years of experience."

The Prince nodded. He looked at Lahlin and the other guardsman. "Lahlin, Artik—you'll tell no one of my doubts?"

Artik saluted. "No one, Highness."

"What doubts?" Lahlin said. "I didn't hear you say a thing."

The Prince smiled. "I'm fortunate to have you three at my side this day."

The pilot of the transport glanced over his shoulder. "We're coming up on the Imperial Compound, your Highness."

"Very good," the Prince said. He picked up his comlink. "Lieutenant, prepare the troops for deployment. We don't use force unless we have to. Wait for my orders."

"Copy that sir," Seck responded.

A few moments later, the transport came to a stop.

"Your Highness?" said the pilot. His voice was shaky. "I think we're too late."

"What do you mean?" The Prince ran to the hatch and slammed the button. The second the door was open, he ran outside and stopped short.

Zeb followed, only to find himself frozen in his tracks. The scene hit him like a punch to the gut. Hundreds of bodies littered the street in front of the Imperial Compound, every single one Lasat. Survivors crawled in between them; some of them shook the lifeless forms, while others simply wailed or sat as still as mirrors of death. Nearest to them, a woman cradled a dead boy, no older than five, and sobbed out his name over and over.

"There weren't this many demonstrators," Lahlin said. "They blasted bystanders, too." He put his hand over his mouth, as if by doing so he could contain his shock.

Zeb looked over at Lieutenant Seck, who had emerged from the transport behind them, as well as the first platoon of men. They too stared at the scene, their expressions ranging from horror to disgust to rage.

The Prince stood frozen for several moments before he made a retching noise.

Zeb nudged Lahlin and gave Artik a significant glance, jerking his head toward the Prince. The three of them moved to block the Prince from the men's view—and just in time. Zeb respectfully averted his gaze until the Prince stood tall again.

"Those filthy Imperials are going to pay for this!" Seck roared, raising his weapon.

The men clamored their agreement, each of them bringing their blasters up to the ready.

"You'll stand down!" Zeb barked. "No order has been given. You await orders. Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Seck snapped to attention and saluted, then lowered his blaster. The men followed his example, but a current of whispers still slithered throughout the ranks like an angry snake.

Zeb growled. "And silence!"

The men fell into a silence more broiling with rage than their whispers had been.

Zeb drew a deep breath, trying to quell his own nausea and anger. He moved in front of the Prince. "Highness, we're awaiting your orders."

The Prince shook his head. "They—they killed them."

"They did, Highness. Do you want me to find out what happened?"

With a slow blink, the Prince finally looked at Zeb. "Yes…yes. Find out what happened. I mean, no. I'll find out what happened." His gaze shifted back to the sea of dead bodies.

After several seconds of waiting, Zeb gestured toward Seck. "They will have holos at the Imperial Compound, Highness. Would you like the lieutenant to check for you?"

Something like determination entered the Prince's mien. "Lieutenant Seck! Go to the compound and demand that they show you the security holos. Double time!"

Seck nodded, gestured for two men to follow him, and started toward the compound at a run.

"In the meantime, I'm going to ask that woman what happened here. Captain Orrelios, with me. Lahlin, Artik—wait here." The Prince strode over to the grieving woman. His face grew pale as he stepped around the bodies on the street.

Following closely behind, Zeb feared that the Prince would be sick again—but Trazel managed to hold himself together. It was only a few moments before they reached the woman and her dead child. Zeb forced his eyes to the woman's face, finding it nearly impossible to look closer at the boy. Her light violet face was streaked with tears. Her ears drooped. A burn mark stretched across her arm, suggesting that she had been grazed by a blaster.

"Citizen," the Prince said. "What happened here?"

Sobbing, the woman looked up. "He's dead. He's dead!"

The Prince opened his mouth as if to speak, but could not find the words. He looked at Zeb, his expression begging for help.

Zeb knelt down beside the woman and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What was his name?"

"Gart," the woman sobbed. "He was only four! He was only four, and they blasted him!"

"Who shot him?"

"The stormtroopers. They—they just—blasted everyone—everyone they could hit." She let out a wail. "Why couldn't it have been me? Why him?"

Zeb suppressed a shiver. He tried to imagine what it might be like to lose his own son, but to survive when he should have been the one who died. It would be more than he could bear, that much was certain. "What's your name?"

"Sera."

"Sera, I need you to help me. Help me so we can get justice for Gart. Can you do that?"

Sniffing, Sera nodded.

"I need to know what happened here."

"We came to watch the demonstrators. My husband and I agreed with them, so we…I don't know where he is right now. They probably shot him too…" She started to sob again.

"Shh. It's going to be all right. We'll get justice for him too. So you came to watch the demonstration. What happened then?"

Sera steadied her breathing. "The demonstrators were chanting protests. A lot of the stormtroopers were on the steps of the compound, watching them, blasters at the ready. Like they wanted an excuse. The march moved forward toward the compound…I'm not sure what happened then. We heard a blast. Just one. I don't know if it was one of the protesters or one of the stormtroopers, but the next minute…"

"The stormtroopers blasted everyone."

Sera nodded. "Only the demonstrators brought weapons, but they were the first ones down. After that…they…the stormtroopers…just kept shooting. My husband told me to go, that he was going to stay and help. So I took Gart and we—we ran—but I was hit and fell. And when I got up…I—he—they—" She grabbed Zeb and buried her face in his chest and sobbed.

Zeb gently patted her on the back and let her cry for a moment before pushing her back. "Sera, take a deep breath. Can you do that?"

Sera took several gasping breaths before she was finally able to stop sobbing. "By the time I…I…Gart was dead. They blasted him too." She pounded her fists on the pavement. "They blasted a four-year-old!"

" _Karabast,_ " Zeb muttered.

Gritting her teeth, Sera grabbed Gart's lifeless body and stood up. "I want them to suffer. Every last one."

"I assure you, Sera," the Prince said, clenching his fists. "There will be justice. I swear it by my mother's crown."

"I'm going to look for my husband now," Sera said shakily.

"No," Zeb said. "It's not safe here. Let us deal with this. You'll be contacted, I promise. You should take your son to the coroner. It will help with confirming this with the investigators."

A tear rolled down Sera's cheek. Weakly, she nodded. She faced the Prince and bowed, then unsteadily walked away.

"We're going to need the holos from the compound for confirmation of her story, Highness," Zeb said, turning toward the Prince. "And we should ask as many witnesses as possible until Seck comes back."

The Prince nodded. The paleness of his face was now colored with rage. "I'll send some men to do that. Come with me." The two of them headed back to the personnel transports, where the men waited with anxious expressions on their faces.

While the Prince shouted orders, Zeb came over to Lahlin and Artik.

"Well?" Lahlin asked.

"Looks like someone got trigger jumpy and the Imps mowed everyone down." Zeb shook his head. "They shot a little boy."

" _Karabast_! Are you serious?"

"Does the Empire have _no_ honor?" Artik snarled.

"I could've already told you they don't." Zeb let out a growl. "But I never thought they'd stoop this low. I'm half tempted to go over there and return the favor. Blast every one of them to the ground."

Lahlin scowled. "Only half?"

"Captain Orrelios!" the Prince called.

Zeb turned around and marched double-time to the Prince's side. "Yes, Highness?"

The Prince lowered his voice. "What do I do now? Should I contact my mother?"

"Wait 'til we've got the whole story. Once Seck has convinced the Imperials to turn over the holos—"

The Prince's eyes drifted to something behind Zeb. "I don't think he did."

Zeb looked over his shoulder. Lieutenant Seck stormed toward them, men in tow. He looked angrier than Zeb had ever seen him.

"Filthy rotten Imps won't give up the footage. Told us we ought to control our people better, that they shouldn't have to do our jobs for us."

The Prince let out a vile swear word. "These protests were scheduled to happen in cities with Imperial Compounds all across the planet, not just Lasan City. Do you suppose that this kind of bloodshed happened everywhere?"

"Your Highness?" said one of the men, saluting as he approached. "The old man I spoke with said that someone fired a blast, and then the stormtroopers started shooting until no one was left standing."

"Who fired the first blast?"

"He said he didn't know. It happened too fast."

Another one of the soldiers ran up. "I talked to a kid who said the same thing." He saluted. "Your Highness."

"What did he say, exactly?" the Prince said.

"He thought he heard a blaster go off, and then the stormtroopers opened fire. Didn't know who fired the first shot, though."

"This corroborates Sera's story," Zeb said.

"I'm calling the Queen," the Prince said. He grabbed his comlink.

"The holo-transmitter in the transport is operational," Zeb said in a low voice. "It will give you more privacy."

"Right. Come with me." The Prince turned toward Seck. "Lieutenant, I want you to call the investigation squad. Let's get it over quick as we can, so we can lay these people to rest properly. I'll be in the transport."

As he followed the Prince to the transport, the stress in Zeb's shoulders reasserted itself, only now, it competed with grief. He longed to be at home, where he could find comfort and support and could forget his troubles for just a little while. He wanted to forget grieving Sera and poor, lifeless Gart. He wanted to forget the hundreds of dead bodies in the street.

But he was Captain of the Honor Guard, and he could not afford such luxuries at a time like this. Not when his people were in danger. Not when there was injustice.

Not when the Empire was slowly turning Lasan into a waking nightmare.

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	2. Chapter 2

Zeb followed the Prince into the royal transport. Even though he was not the one who would have to tell the Queen about what happened, he still could not completely suppress a jittery feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The Prince walked up to the holo-transmitter in the transport's control panel. Zeb stood close behind him, snapping to attention as the Queen's image flickered before them.

The Prince hung his head. "Mother…"

"Trazel, what happened?" the Queen said, furrows of concern stretching across her brow.

"There was—we were too late to stop the demonstration. So the stormtroopers stopped it for us."

"What do you mean they 'stopped' it for you?"

"They shot everyone in the street. Protesters, bystanders—everyone they could. We went to get their security holos, but they refused to cooperate. We have three witnesses who all offered similar versions of the same story."

"Why did the stormtroopers shoot everyone? Did the protest turn violent?"

"Not that we can tell. All the witnesses we spoke with said a single shot was fired, and then the stormtroopers killed everybody in sight."

"Who fired that shot?"

"None of them knew. It's why we need the security holos. But as I said, the Imperials won't hand them over. I called the investigators to inspect the scene. You should be receiving holos of what the street looks like any minute now."

The Queen's eyes darted away to something to her left. Something entered her face: a tightness of the brow, a slight bulging in the temples. She pressed her lips together in a thin line. Zeb recognized it immediately—suppressed rage. Years of working by her side had taught him the signs.

"You received it?" the Prince asked.

The Queen gave the slightest of nods.

"Mother, they blasted unarmed women and children."

When the Queen finally spoke, her voice was soft and deadly. "This is unacceptable. I will immediately contact our Senator and inform her of what has transpired." She paced back and forth for a few moments, then turned to face the holo-transmitter directly. Strong and commanding now, her voice filled the transport. "Arrest them." She slashed her hand through the air in front of her. "Arrest _all_ of them. Let the Empire—and our people—see there is justice to be had on Lasan. No one—not even these _Imperials_ —has the right to kill innocents. They will be tried by _our_ courts and will face _our_ punishment for their crimes."

"It will be done."

"Trazel, listen to me. You must use as little force as possible. Injure them if you have to, but do not kill anyone unless it is absolutely necessary. Do you understand? You cannot possibly imagine the consequences this will bring down on us if there is Imperial bloodshed in this confrontation. I am counting on you."

"I understand."

"Make sure your men do, too. They will likely be looking for blood in payment for the dead. Do not allow them to obtain it. Now go."

The Prince gave a deep bow. Zeb did the same, and a moment later, the Queen shut off the transmission, leaving the two of them in silence.

Slowly, the Prince turned around to face Zeb. "You take command. I'm not ready for this."

"Highness." Zeb laid a hand on the Prince's shoulder. "The Queen gave these orders to you. If you do this, Lasan will see the Crown Prince, their future King, stepping up when the Empire committed crimes against them. They need you, Trazel. You give me command here, and you take that from them."

"But—what do I do?"

"Follow orders."

The Prince looked utterly lost, opening his mouth for a moment as if grasping for words. But then his mouth snapped shut, and he gave a sharp nod. He gestured for Zeb to leave the transport.

 _Poor kid,_ Zeb thought, as he stepped out of the transport and into the evening air. _In way over his head. But it's got to be him._

The Prince stepped out of the transport. "All right, men!" he barked. "The Queen has given her orders. We are to arrest the Imperial filth who _dared_ to slaughter our people."

The men let out cheers mixed with shouts of vengeance.

"All of you, listen! Use the least amount of force possible. Don't injure them if you can avoid it. If you can't avoid it, don't kill them. I don't want a single stormtrooper dead in all of this. We are not here to be executioners. We are here to bring them to the courts for justice—am I understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"Let me be clear—these stormtroopers will pay dearly for their crimes. You all know what the penalty for the murder of innocents is. Remember: it is not your job to do this. Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"I said, am I understood?" the Prince bellowed, showing his teeth.

"Sir, yes, sir!" the men shouted in a deafening roar.

"Lieutenant Seck! Captain Orrelios! Guardsmen Lahlin and Artik! I am at the front and you are by my side!"

Zeb chorused his acknowledgment along with the others as pride swelled in his chest. Prince Trazel Eladarren was coming into his own as a military leader—a commanding figure men would be willing to follow into battle and die for. He didn't realize it, but he was turning himself into a figure of hope for his people. The Queen had not been wrong in choosing him for this assignment. But in Zeb's experience, the Queen was seldom wrong about anything.

"Well done," Zeb muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"I learn from the best," the Prince muttered in reply.

Seck, Lahlin and Artik jogged over to where Zeb and the Prince stood. Pride bloomed across all of their faces, as if they could think of no service better than to be at the Prince's side in this moment. Zeb smiled. The little boy he had guarded years ago had turned into a man in a matter of moments.

"Ready for your orders, Highness," Seck said, saluting.

"We lead," the Prince said. "Artik, Lahlin—you flank me. Do your usual job. I don't want you distracted by having to arrest stormtroopers. Keep watch for snipers and potential ambushes."

"At your command, Highness," Artik and Lahlin said together.

"Seck—I want you to choose the best formation for the men and relay that order, then lead from the front with me."

"Sir, yes, sir." The Lieutenant turned toward the men and started bellowing orders.

"Orrelios," the Prince said, facing Zeb. A tiny smile ghosted across his face. "Give those bastards hell the way only _you_ can."

Zeb chuckled as he cracked his neck. "It'll be my pleasure, Highness."

"You'll be a primary target."

"I know. It's more fun that way."

The Prince gave a sharp nod. "May the Ashla guard you, then."

Seck returned to the Prince's side. "The men have their orders. They're just waiting for your command, now."

Drawing a deep breath, the Prince closed his eyes for a moment. He turned around to face the men. "The Ashla and the eyes of our ancestors rest upon us! Whatever their will, remember your honor. In victory or defeat, we are still the Lasat!"

The men cheered.

"Advance!"

As one, the men moved forward into motion, falling at once into the formation Seck commanded them to take. They advanced to the steps of the Imperial Compound. Two stormtroopers flanked the entrance, and if Zeb knew anything about the stupid Imperial lackeys, they were probably shaking in their boots.

The Prince held up a hand, signaling the troops to stop. "I demand to speak to your commander," he said to the stormtroopers, in a booming voice.

The stormtroopers didn't move for a moment.

"Orrelios. Convince them."

"All right, you lousy bucket-heads," Zeb snarled, baring his teeth. He pulled his bo-rifle from his back and extended it to full length. "The High Prince of Lasan has demanded to speak with your commander." He gave the bo-rifle a whirl and let out a growl. " _So call him. Now._ Or face the consequences. _"_

The stormtrooper to the left of the door pulled out a comlink. "Commander, the Prince of Lasan wants to talk to you." His voice shook.

"He _commands_ it!" Zeb bellowed, taking a step forward.

"I think they mean business, sir," the stormtrooper continued. "You'd better get out here."

"I will do no such thing," the commander said. Zeb had anticipated the man's voice would be high and nasally. The commander's voice did not disappoint Zeb's expectation; it sounded more effeminate than the most genteel Lasat woman. "I will speak with him over the comlink."

"Very well," the Prince shouted. "Since your cowardice is too great to face me yourself, I will deign to speak to you this way. You and all your men are hereby under arrest for crimes against Lasan's people. Surrender, or we will use force."

"Surrender?" The commander scoffed. "We have committed no crimes. Your people attacked our garrison and we defended ourselves."

"You shot unarmed civilians!"

"We did what we had to do, Lasat."

"And now we will do what we have to do," the Prince said. "Crimes such as yours do not go unpunished on our planet. You will be given a trial and sentenced accordingly."

"If you use force, you'll meet the same fate as that uprising. The Empire will not be intimidated."

"We shall see." The Prince gave the signal. "Move in!"

In perfect formation, the Lasat troops attacked. Two columns of men on either side of the Crown Prince advanced forward, blasters at the ready. The stormtroopers at the door let out a couple of feeble blasts, but their armor was no match for the high-powered blaster rifles the Lasat army carried. Even at the lowest setting, the charge knocked the stormtroopers off their feet. Unconscious, they fell to the ground in a heap. Seck moved forward and snatched a key card from one of the stormtrooper's belts, signaling for a couple of men to put the stormtroopers in restraints. He unlocked the main gate. Stormtroopers on the other side tried to stop it.

"Get in there!" Seck shouted. "Keep that door open!"

Two Lasat soldiers made a dive for the closing door. They caught it just in time and slowly began to force the door open with brute strength, giving just enough time for more soldiers to run in. The two Lasat men who held open the door were immediate targets; it took three blasts each from the Imperial rifles before they finally collapsed to the ground. The weight of the door crushed them.

By that time, however, it was too late. Some of the men had made it inside. Shouts and blaster fire sounded from behind the door, and moments later, the door opened the rest of the way.

Immediately, an array of blaster fire assaulted the Lasat troops. Several of the men who had gone in lay still on the ground. Zeb clenched his fists.

"Orrelios!" the Prince shouted.

With a roar, Zeb charged straight into the midst of the stormtroopers, bo-rifle extended. Five running strides closed the distance to them. One of the troopers yelped and ran. The others valiantly tried to close ranks.

"Oh, no you don't," Zeb growled. He whirled his bo-rifle and struck. One trooper screamed as the high voltage engulfed his armor. He fell to the ground, still held in place by shock.

Zeb let out a snort. "Come on, you bucket-headed baby! That wasn't even on the highest setting!" He struck again, knocking away another trooper with a dose of the bo-rifle's voltage. Another trooper closed in. Grinning, Zeb kicked him on the belly, sending him back into three other men and knocking them to the floor.

Blaster fire grazed across Zeb's shoulder. Shouting, he wheeled around and spun his bo-rifle. He stabbed behind him to shock the other trooper closing in and landed his fist on the head of the trooper in front of him. The trooper's helmet flew off.

Still in pincer formation, the other Lasats flooded in to back up Zeb's attack.

"Fall back! Fall back!" one of the stormtroopers cried.

"Get those cowards, boys!" Seck shouted.

The stormtroopers retreated into the barracks and garage and laid down heavy fire through the windows. Lahlin and Artik practically dragged the Prince behind cover, out of the line of fire. Zeb couldn't dodge in time. A bolt hit him in the side and he fell.

"Got you covered, Captain!" Seck shouted. "Men! Cover fire!"

Zeb forced himself up from the ground, grabbing his bo-rifle as he did. He ran for cover around the corner behind the barracks, trying to ignore the horrible burning in his side. Once out of immediate danger, he collapsed against the wall.

Seck was at his side in an instant. "You all right, Captain?"

"I've had worse," Zeb muttered. "I don't think I caught the full blast—but _karabast,_ it hurts like a son of a—"

" _Detonator_!"

One of the men dove forward, grabbed the thermal detonator, and lobbed it back into the barracks seconds before it exploded. Stormtroopers screamed as the barracks' windows blew out.

"I said _no fatalities_!" the Prince bellowed.

"They started it, sir!" one of the men called back. A wave of snickering went through the ranks.

"No comedians!" Seck shouted. He turned back to Zeb. "Ready for another round, sir?"

Zeb stood up. The acute pain in his side had been reduced to a dull burning. "I think so. Lousy Imps don't even have proper blaster rifles."

"We're lucky that way," Seck spat on the ground. "They must have deployed the whole garrison at once to kill as many civilians as they did. All right, men! Company A, keep them pinned down! Company B, advance! You warriors secure the barracks—you make sure the garage is secure!"

Zeb ran to join Company B's assault on the command building. He nearly stopped in his tracks when he saw the Prince running to the front, flanked by Lahlin and Artik. Lahlin held his bo-rifle extended, and Artik held his in rifle formation, blasting down any stormtrooper foolish enough to raise his head from behind cover.

Still wincing from his wound, Zeb ran to the Prince's side. "Highness—the front line is too dangerous for you."

"I said I'd be at the front, so here I am!" The Prince raised his rifle and blasted down an over-confident stormtrooper. "Get in there and do your job!"

Zeb frowned as he activated his bo-rifle again. _Why, you cocky little—_

But he didn't have time to finish the thought. He charged behind the enemy's line of cover, knocking two men out at once with a well-placed forward thrust of his bo-rifle. He rolled to the floor as a volley of blaster fire went over his head, jabbing upward and shocking another stormtrooper as he did. Zeb let out a roar and put on his most intimidating expression, and two of the troopers went running.

The rest of company B had advanced past the line of cover. The stormtroopers who did not retreat were immediately blasted. All of them went down, but those who were only clipped by the rifle bolts and returned fire. Five Lasats fell to the ground before another wave of shooting subdued the troopers.

"I do not envy the headaches they'll have when they wake up," the Prince said, offering a hand to Zeb.

Zeb took hold of Trazel's hand and pulled himself up from the floor. "Highness, I know we don't want fatalities. But we can't have them getting up again."

"He's right, Highness," Seck added. "They—"

The beeping of thermal detonators sounded.

"Take cover!"

Everyone dove away from the detonators that rolled into their midst. Caught in the blast, at least another dozen men went down. Lahlin and Artik threw the Prince to the ground and shielded him with their bodies. A piece of shrapnel lodged itself in Lahlin's leg. Zeb managed to escape any injury beyond a mild burn on his arms.

"We have to up the intensity on the men's rifles, Highness," Seck said, crawling to the Prince's side. "Just to two. It'll injure 'em bad, but they'll live."

Lahlin and Artik let the Prince up again. The Prince shook his head for a moment. "Very well. Give the order." As Seck relayed the order, the Prince turned to look at the Guardsmen. "Lahlin! You're hurt!"

"I'll be fine, Highness," Lahlin said through gritted teeth. "Once these Imperials are behind bars, I'll worry about it."

The Prince gave a sharp nod.

The company stood up again and adjusted their rifles. Zeb and the others rose along with them, only to be forced to dodge another wave of fire from the command building in the middle of the compound.

"It can't be much longer now, men!" the Prince shouted. "Take them all down!"

Seck gave a signal with his arm. "Company A, move in!"

Company A rejoined Company B and they advanced forward, returning fire. This time, once hit, the stormtroopers stayed down. The Lasats' heavy fire knocked stormtrooper after stormtrooper out of the fight, and the rest of the troopers retreated once more.

"After them!" Seck ordered.

As one, the Lasats charged after the fleeing stormtroopers, who ran into the command building and sealed the door.

"It's a choke point, Highness," Seck said. "We'll be cut to pieces if we go through that door."

"They seem to like playing with detonators," the Prince said. "Why don't we use some of our own to open a few extra doors?"

Seck grinned. "Sir, yes sir. All right, men! You heard the Prince! Everyone take cover. Explosives unit!"

Everyone else fell back while the explosives unit stuck detonators to the walls. The unit ran back to join the others.

"On three, we detonate," the Prince said. "Then we charge. One, two, _three_!"

The detonators exploded, cracking the walls wide open.

"Charge!"

With the Prince at their head, the two companies charged the new holes in the wall.

"We surrender!" the garrison commander shouted before they could enter, his voice higher pitched than ever.

"Hold your fire!" the Prince said, holding up his arm. He narrowed his eyes at the remaining twenty or so Imperials. "Drop your weapons. Now."

The Imperials tossed their blasters to the ground.

"Take off your helmets."

They did so. Zeb took some small satisfaction in the terror on the Imperials' faces.

"And now, you will face Lasat justice," the Prince announced. "Captain Orrelios! Lieutenant Seck! Arrest these men."

Zeb and Seck took a few steps forward.

Artik shouted and turned his rifle upward. "Sni—"

A blast fired from the command tower, striking Artik in the chest. The direct hit was enough to send him down at once.

"No!" the Imperial Commander shouted.

Another blast fired. Zeb ran to interpose.

But too late. As if in slow motion, Zeb watched as the blaster bolt hit Trazel right in the forehead. Zeb was only dimly aware of Lahlin snapping his bo-rifle back to rifle formation and shooting the sniper. Blaster fire filled the room. The Prince fell with a look of shock etched into his young face.

Zeb dove for the Prince, only to reach him in time to catch his limp body before it hit the ground.

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

"This holo was recorded only fifteen minutes ago." Marsen De Vries, Imperial Governor of the Sala Sector, stood at parade rest next to the holo-table that was playing the final moments of the Lasan City garrison's stand on a continuous loop. "Shortly before this was taken, the garrison commander reported a confrontation with the Lasat military following his suppression of a violent riot. Though the audio cut out just before this, you can clearly see that the lieutenant is in the process of surrendering when he and all his men are murdered by the Lasats."

Agent Kallus impassively watched the holo replay. Though outwardly he showed no expression, the sight of Lasats killing Imperial troopers stirred up dangerous memories. Suppressing them for the moment, he studied every detail of the holo: the stormtroopers and their officer stood on one side; the Lasats on the other, almost outside the imager's range. Imperial blaster rifles and helmets littered the ground in front of the stormtroopers. He could see their hands up in a gesture of surrender. Suddenly, every Lasat in the frame fired simultaneously into the line of stormtroopers. _Damn fools never had a chance_.

"The Imperial Senate has yet to make a move on this situation," De Vries was saying. "However, the Emperor himself informed me that he will not abide such heinous war crimes against his troops. We must act."

The display changed to show the sector. With a gesture, De Vries populated the display with the sector's Imperial presence. Kallus raised his eyebrows; it was not an impressive showing. The majority of the Imperial presence was centered at their own base on Oran, and aside from a pair of refitted _Acclamator_ -class assault ships guarding a hyperspace lane on the other side of the sector, the only naval ships in the sector were a single _Venator_ -class cruiser and a pair of light cruisers in orbit above the Governor's Headquarters. Every vehicle and ship in the sector had seen action during the war. From his own experience, the stormtroopers in the sector were unimpressive. All of them but a single clone platoon were conscripts drafted after the War, so their equipment had more experience than they did. And on top of that, every stormtrooper in the sector outside of their own base was already assigned guard duty at an Imperial installation.

"Captain Awlek will take the battalion to Lasan. Secure the compound in Lasan City and await further instructions. Captain Durst and _Vengeance_ will transport and establish air superiority. Agent Kallus, I want you to investigate this war crime and build a case against the Lasats. We cannot show weakness, but we also cannot act without further clear evidence of wrongdoing on their part." Kallus tore his eyes away from the holo and turned to De Vries, who was looking at him. Kallus nodded.

"We can't sit on this, so the _Vengeance_ leaves on the hour," De Vries said. "Dismissed."

 _I'm investigating war crimes by Lasats in an active war zone_ , Kallus thought, a sinking feeling in his chest. _And I've only got a battalion of support against the most warlike race in the sector_.

It did not take Kallus long to prepare for the mission. Kallus marched to his room, refusing to allow distant unpleasant memories to interfere with his duty. Mechanically he grabbed his datapad and recorder off the desk and placed them in their holsters alongside his blaster. Without a glance back, he left the room and jogged out to the waiting transports for the quick jump out of the atmosphere.

Once aboard the _Vengeance_ , Kallus walked with the other officers past several rows of V-Wings to the turbolift that would take them to the bridge and ready room.

"Ready for this mission, Kallus?" Lynch asked, walking beside him. The lieutenant was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation.

"I am always ready to serve my Emperor, Lieutenant," Kallus responded. "Are you ready?"

"I've been ready ever since I finished training, though I don't know anything about these Lasats." Lynch frowned. "What do you know of them?"

"'A race at peace, yet perpetually at war,'" Kallus recited. "They are among the most warlike species in the galaxy. The only reason the savages do not tear each other apart is because their semiannual 'War Games' excise those demons. They are ready and waiting for us. Frankly, I'd rather wrestle a rathtar than fight an army of them."

* * *

 _Trazel._

Unable to speak, Zeb cradled the Prince's body for a moment. Gently, he laid the Prince down on ground and brushed his fingers along the side of the Prince's face.

 _Trazel._

Biting his lip and blinking back tears, Zeb tenderly pulled Trazel's eyes shut. He looked up to see Lahlin, who stared at the Prince with abject horror on his face.

"I—I failed," Lahlin stammered.

 _Not as much as me._ Zeb swallowed hard, fighting back grief and rage. The mission had to continue, or Trazel's death was meaningless. Zeb climbed to his feet and looked toward the Imperial prisoners. They lay dead on the ground, blasted so much that smoke rose from their armor. That must have been the blasting he had heard. The Prince was dead, and surrendered men had been killed.

 _Not half as much as me._

"You lot of idiots!" Zeb bellowed, wheeling around on the Lasat troops. "Who fired on the surrendered Imperials?"

None of the Lasats moved.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll admit it now—because you know I _will_ find you out. I'll find out, and you'll be court-martialed. If no one confesses, I'll court-martial this entire unit of men!"

"But sir!" Seck said. "They shot Prince Trazel! They used their surrender as a distraction to kill him!"

Zeb stared. "You, Seck?"

Seck hung his head.

" _Karabast_!" Zeb clenched his fist. Before he could stop himself, he punched Seck so hard the Lieutenant fell to the floor. "This is a war crime, can't you get that through your thick skull? This is one of the deepest violations of the _Boosahn Keeraw_. It is not the way of Lasan! You dishonored Prince Trazel with your actions!"

Seck sat up, smearing away the blood from his lip. "I resign."

"You'd better," Zeb snarled. "But first, you're going to finish this mission. Listen up, men! I want every stormtrooper you _haven't_ murdered in restraints. Bring them back to the palace for detainment. Bring our dead so they can have an honorable burial. Just remember that you tainted their sacrifice with your dishonorable behavior."

"Captain Orrelios, sir—I fired on the stormtroopers," one of the men said. "Don't accuse those who didn't."

Several of the other men who were near the front raised their hands in admission.

"You're all under arrest," Zeb said. "But I trust you have enough remaining honor to deliver yourselves to detainment. First, you'll help the others clean up this mess. Double time!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" they chorused. They rushed to perform their duties, all under the supervision of a dejected Lieutenant Seck. At least twenty of the men went about with looks of hot shame plastered on their faces—but a few others looked as though they thought they were fully justified. The rest simply wore varying expressions of disgust and disappointment.

Shaking his head, Zeb turned back to Lahlin.

" _Karabast,_ " Lahlin muttered, his ears drooping. "Zeb…I…"

"It's not your fault, Lahlin. You didn't have your bo-rifle ready because you were following procedure—one always has his rifle extended, one always has his folded."

"So this was Artik's fault?" Lahlin growled. "Artik is dead! He died doing his duty!"

Zeb put a hand on Lahlin's shoulder. "I didn't say it was his fault. Sometimes…sometimes you're just outgunned."

"Prince Trazel was my charge. Zeb, he's been my charge since he was twelve. I watched him grow up." Lahlin squeezed his eyes shut. "And Artik…we enlisted the same day. At least he died trying to defend the Prince. I don't deserve to survive. Not when the Prince is dead."

"No one deserves to survive. They're just cursed with it."

Lahlin snorted. "Always the ray of sunshine."

"It's the truth." Zeb sighed. An image of young Trazel flashed through Zeb's mind. He held a toy blaster and ran in circles around Zeb, shouting wild fantasies of warfare as only a six-year-old could imagine it.

"And I'll be safe as long as you're with me, right, Zeb?" Trazel had said, concluding the story of his epic battle.

"That's right, Highness," Zeb had replied, smiling. "I'll always keep you safe."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what. I'll die to keep you safe. I promise."

It became a promise ten times more important once Zeb was sworn in as Captain of the Honor Guard.

Now, it was promise broken.

"I'll have to resign," Lahlin said, dragging Zeb back into the present.

Zeb frowned. "No. No, Lahlin." He jabbed his thumb at his own chest. "I'm responsible for this whole pigscrew. The Prince, the prisoners…it's got to be me. I'll put in a good word for you."

"You know the Queen will never accept your resignation."

"You think so? The Prince is dead and the _Boosahn Keeraw_ has been violated. She specifically told me to watch over him." Zeb pounded his fists together. " _Karabast!_ Do you know he wished for the Ashla to watch over me? He should have wished it for himself. It should be me lying there."

"It should be both of us."

Zeb shook his head. _You don't understand. I promised him._ "I'll carry him back to the palace."

"Zeb, let me help you. He was my—"

"He was my charge before he was ever yours! I'll carry him alone, do you understand?"

Lahlin pressed his lips together and gave a curt nod.

Zeb knelt down beside Trazel's still body. Only one thing could hurt him more than the sight of the proud young Lasat lying dead. Zeb brushed the thought away. He didn't have the strength to even imagine such a thing. Gently, he scooped his arms under the body and lifted it up, then climbed back to his feet. The tension in Zeb's shoulders turned into a loud complaining ache, and the blaster wound in his side screamed at the exertion. He accepted the pain as an insufficient punishment—just the beginning of his penance. Under the Ancient Laws, he could pay with his life for this failure.

Somehow, it still did not seem like enough.

"Seck!" Zeb said. "Finish up here. Then turn in your resignation. I'm going back to the Palace to inform the Queen what happened here."

Seck gave Zeb a weary salute, then returned to barking orders to the men.

Carrying Trazel in front of him, Zeb made a slow egress from the compound. He was only dimly aware of Lahlin behind him, who carried Artik. All around, soldiers hurried to carry out their orders—but when Zeb passed, they paused and saluted.

The trip back to the Royal transport seemed to take an age. The trip back to the Palace took even longer, as the pilot drove slowly with the red lights on, signaling the fall of a warrior. Lahlin had laid Artik on the floor of the transport and sat beside him. Lahlin looked like a lost child, reminding Zeb for the moment of how much younger than him his friend was. Zeb shook his head and looked away. The pain in his shoulders and side urged him to put Trazel down on the floor beside Artik, but Zeb denied it. He would carry Trazel the whole way, no matter how much it hurt.

The Royal transport came to a halt in front of the Palace steps and the doors slid open. All around, citizens had gathered to stare, to find out whose death had taken place. A collective gasp shot through the crowd as Zeb stepped out. Somewhere in the distance, a woman let out a wail of mourning. He tried to ignore it and headed straight for the Palace entrance. As he ascended the grand staircase, each step felt like an accusation.

"Where is the Queen?" Zeb asked one of the Guardsmen flanking the door.

"In the throne room, I believe," the Guardsman said, starting. His eyes fell on the Prince's body, wide with horror. "Captain Orrelios, what happened?"

Zeb found no words. He simply walked through the door and headed straight for the throne room, knowing the pain in his body would pale beside the pain and humiliation of resignation, the pain of failure. It was all pain he deserved—pain heaped upon the anguish of losing Trazel.

Little Trazel, who became a man only long enough to die like one.

The throne room doors slid open to permit their entry. The Queen sat upon her throne, engaged in a conversation with Lasan's representative in the Senate. Her eyes drifted toward Zeb and Lahlin.

"I must go," the Queen said. She turned off the transmitter and rose from her throne, hurrying down from the dais to meet Zeb. She stopped short a few paces away, her expression completely blank. Her two guards followed closely behind her.

Zeb came to a stop in front of her, laying Trazel at her feet. A meter or so behind them, Lahlin laid down Artik's body and stood still.

Zeb hesitated. "Queen Rassala, I—"

The Queen fell to her knees beside her son, her face still blank. She stared for a moment longer, then threw her arms around his body and burst out sobbing. She kissed his face and stroked the top of his head, then rested her head on his chest and was still and silent.

A minute or so later, she sat back on her heels and looked up at Zeb. "Captain Orrelios. Report."

Zeb floundered for a moment, trying to chase down words which escaped him.

"I said _report_!" the Queen screamed, her voice echoing through the chamber.

"We went in to arrest the stormtroopers. They resisted. We had to use increased force. We finally had twenty or so of them cornered, and they surrendered. The Prince ordered Lieutenant Seck and me to put the remaining troopers in restraints." Zeb swallowed. "There was a sniper. Artik had his bo-rifle folded, but was not fast enough to take the sniper out. Guardsman Lahlin was unable to fold his rifle in time. I was too far from the Prince to interpose."

"I see." The Queen's expression was blank again, save for the tear streaks smeared across her face. "And the sniper?"

"Lahlin shot him down, but it was too late."

"Guardsman Lahlin, is this true?"

"Yes, your Majesty," Lahlin said. "I had my rifle extended in bo formation. It took me too long to fold it."

The Queen blinked, then looked back at Trazel. "Did…did my son die well?"

"With honor," Zeb said. "He died a true warrior of Lasan. You should be proud of him."

The Queen said nothing. She gently ran her hand across Trazel's face for several moments.

Zeb hesitated. "Your Majesty, there's more bad news."

"What news could you give me that could possibly be worse than this, Captain?"

"Some of the men retaliated. They fired on the surrendered prisoners. Killed every last one of them."

The Queen sat still, staring at her son.

"I have ordered all of them to turn themselves in. They will be court-martialed for their violation of the _Boosahn Keeraw._ "

Slowly, the Queen rose to her feet. Tightness entered her brow. Her temples bulged slightly. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

Zeb braced himself.

"I will tolerate the presence of the Empire on my planet no longer! I want every last stormtrooper on this world to be arrested, and then I want every last Imperial Compound destroyed. Bomb them all. I want them in rubble before the sun rises, am I understood?"

"Understood, your Majesty. I will relay the order to General Bellum."

The Queen drew a deep breath. "See to it that commendations are given to Guardsman Artik and his family is compensated for their loss. Guardsman Lahlin—"

Lahlin flinched.

"Thank you for avenging my son. You are temporarily dismissed and will be assigned a new post in the morning. Get treatment for your injuries."

"Yes, Majesty. Thank you, Majesty." Lahlin clapped his fist against his palm, bowed, and left the room.

"Guards!" the Queen called, motioning to the Guardsmen who flanked the inside of the door as well as those at her sides. "Leave us. Call for the Royal Undertaker. Close the door behind you."

The four Guardsmen saluted and hurried from the room. The door slid shut, leaving the Queen and Zeb completely alone with Trazel and Artik.

"Your Majesty," Zeb said, kneeling. "I resign my station as Captain of the Honor Guard and submit myself to you for the judgment of my failure under the Ancient Law."

The Queen folded her hands behind her back and stared down at him, a frown cutting deep lines into her face. "I deny your resignation, Captain Orrelios. I revoke the Ancient Law's punishment for this failure."

"But your Majesty—"

"Do you truly wish me to strip you from your family, as Artik's has been stripped of him?"

"No," Zeb said, hanging his head. "But my resignation—"

"Listen to me! As surely as the sun will rise in the morning, the fist of the Empire will come crashing down upon us. We will not gain our freedom from their occupation without a fight, and I need you. I need you, Garazeb." Her voice faltered. "Since I lost my husband two years ago, you have been my right hand. My right arm. I cannot lose you as I lost him. As I have lost my son."

"But—"

"I still trust you more than anyone else."

"I'm not worthy of your trust, Queen Rassala."

"You are worthy because I say you are. Do you question the finality of my judgment?"

"No, your Majesty."

"Good." The Queen blinked her eyes rapidly, then glanced down at Zeb's side. "You have been wounded. Get treatment. I need you at your full strength. My daughters still need your protection. My people need your protection. This world needs your protection."

"Yes, Majesty."

"And Garazeb?"

Zeb looked up at the Queen, surprised to find tenderness in her expression. "Yes?"

"You may contact your family."

"Thank you, Majesty."

"Give my regards to Lucasta."

"I will."

* * *

Zeb sat in one of the Palace's private holo-imager rooms, sitting in front of the console. He had already relayed the Queen's orders to General Bellum and had planned to go straight to the hospital wing, but he longed to see his wife's face more than he wanted his pain to subside. He tapped the console in front of him, and a few moments later, the most beautiful image in the world flickered on in front of him: Lucasta, a tall, curvy Lasat woman with a hugely rounded belly. Her dark hair fell down around her shoulders, framing a delicate violet face fraught with worry.

"Sorry I didn't contact you sooner, love," Zeb said, wishing he could reach out and touch her through the holo. "I know it's late. Queen Rassala sends her regards, by the way."

Lucasta gave a dismissive wave. "I've been worried sick. What's happened? There are rumors all over the holonet."

Zeb hung his head. He wanted nothing more than to rest his face on her shoulder and hide from the world around him. Once again, words danced away from his mouth, leaving him speechless.

"Zeb?"

"There was a massacre. The Imperials killed civilians in the protests. And…Prince Trazel is dead. An Imperial sniper shot him in the head."

Lucasta put a hand over her mouth.

"You should have seen the Queen's face, Lucasta. I—I've never failed her in my whole career, and…and… _karabast!_ At least Lahlin got to shoot the sniper that killed Trazel. I've got nothing. Nothing except the Queen denied my resignation, and her undeserved trust."

"You've earned her trust. You've earned it for the past twenty years, from the day you entered the Honor Guard."

Zeb sighed. Had it really been twenty years? He was eighteen when he enlisted in the army, and two years later, he was inducted into the Honor Guard. Twenty-two years of faithful service—service so faithful that he had not even bothered to marry until four years ago—and all of it culminated in a failure so colossal there could never be any redemption for it.

"Zeb, look at me," Lucasta said. "This failure doesn't undo a lifetime of fidelity and service to Lasan. Besides, what is it I've heard you say? 'Sometimes…'"

"Sometimes you're just outgunned."

"Maybe you should allow yourself the same permission for error as you give to others, love. You're too hard on yourself."

"I'm the Captain of the Honor Guard! I'm responsible for the Royal Family and every single Lasat! I don't have the luxury of not being hard on myself."

"But even as Captain of the Honor Guard, Lasan doesn't begin and end with you. You aren't alone." She pulled out a small woven necklace from around her neck—an exact match for the one Zeb wore under his uniform. "You will always have me beside you, as long as you wear your Troth Cord and as long as I wear mine. You know that the Ashla binds us. You know I share everything with you—failures and successes, pain and joy."

Zeb reached up to his throat and pulled out his Troth Cord, then gave it a small kiss. "I'm sorry all you have to share with me tonight is the failure and pain."

"There's still joy, even today." Lucasta placed her hands on her rounded belly. "The medical droid said it should only be another month now."

Zeb smiled for a moment, wishing that he could place his hand on her belly and feel his future daughter kicking about inside.

Lucasta chuckled. "Solston told me today that I'd better give him his baby sister soon. He's getting impatient. I wonder where he learned that from—because it certainly wasn't from me."

"I suppose he's in bed by now?"

"Yes, though it took a lot of coaxing to get him there. He—"

"Listen…Lucasta." Zeb drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Things are going to get bad. I can't come home tonight. I don't know when I'll be able to. The Empire's going to be coming here for sure—Queen Rassala ordered all the Imperial Compounds destroyed. She said she's putting the Imperial occupation of Lasan to an end. Lasan City is going to be a major target. I want you to take Solston and get out of the city. Go to Havenil—there aren't any troopers stationed there, and it's too small for the Imps to care about it. You should be able to make it by morning if you leave now."

"But—"

"I don't know when I'll see you again, love. Or if I even will."

Lucasta's lower lip trembled. "Garazeb…"

"I don't have much time. Can I talk to Solston?"

"I'll get him." The imager went blank for a couple of minutes. When Lucasta returned, she brought along with her a sleepy-looking three-year-old.

"Da?" Solston said, rubbing at his eyes.

Zeb waved. "Hey, kiddo. Da's gonna be gone for a while. You and Mum are taking a trip. You'll take care of Mum for me, won't you?"

Solston yawned. "Mm-hm."

"You know your Da loves you. Always remember, okay?"

"I love my baby sister," Solston said, patting Lucasta's belly.

Zeb grinned. "Take care of her too, then."

"Go back to bed now, Solston," Lucasta said. "Mum and Da have to talk."

"Bye, Da!" Solston blew a kiss at the holo-imager and then took off at a run.

There was a moment of silence. Zeb took in every aspect of his wife's image, praying that this would not be the last time he would see her, praying that he would someday see his daughter's face. "Promise me you'll leave before sunup."

Lucasta nodded. "Promise me that you will forgive yourself."

"I—I'll try."

"No matter what happens, you will still be the most honorable being I know, Garazeb. Remember that."

Zeb gave a shaky nod, then held his Troth Cord in front of his lips. Lucasta did the same with hers. They waited for a moment, then kissed their Cords at the same time.

The transmission ended.

Zeb sat still for a moment longer, tucked his Troth Cord away, and rose to his feet. It was time to go to the medical wing to get treatment for his wound. General Bellum was handling the destruction of the Imperial Compounds and coordinating the military's efforts planet-wide, so all Zeb could do now was wait for the Empire's fist to fall on them—and he had to be ready when it did.

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

"We will exit hyperspace in moments, Captain," a voice called from the pit of the _Vengeance_ 's bridge.

"Very good, lieutenant," Captain Durst replied. He stood at parade rest in the middle of his raised command platform, the picture of calm amid a sea of activity. If Kallus didn't know better, he would think Durst had more command experience than he really did.

Kallus stood on the bridge several paces behind Durst. Next to him, Captain Awlek stared intently at the monitors, studying the route their gunships would take to reach the Imperial compound in Lasan City. Kallus, meanwhile, studied the holofeed from the Imperial compound again, willing it to give him the evidence necessary to complete his mission—if possible, before he would have to set foot on the despicable rock they approached.

Abruptly, the white lines outside the viewport faded back into stars as the _Vengeance_ reentered realspace. The blue-and-green planet of Lasan took up most of the view. But between the dagger-shaped bow of the _Vengeance_ and the planet, Kallus could just make out an array of fighters surrounding a slightly-larger vessel.

Kallus started. "There are enemy ships out there!" He fought to keep his fear in check. "What is that larger ship they are protecting? Some kind of trap?"

"Battle stations!" Durst ordered from his position in the middle of the bridge. "Deploy V-wings in defensive formation, and place both Aggressor and Dominator Squadrons on standby."

Below them, the ship's black dorsal blast doors began to retract, exposing the flight deck. Before it had opened completely, half a squadron of V-wings had already emerged from the port hangar and shot forward, interposing themselves between the _Vengeance_ and the waiting Lasat fighters.

"Focus in on those ships and display," Durst ordered. The holoprojector next to him activated, showing a full squadron of enemy starfighters, as well as a larger frigate that appeared to be unarmed. The fighters themselves were quite unique: though the ships themselves were only a little larger than a V-wing, the cockpit looked to be at least twice the size of the V-wing's. Aerodynamic lines spread from the cockpit along the wings, which ended with a sharp downward swoop covering a laser cannon at the end of each wing. The ship's nose likewise had a downward curve, ending in a point from which another small weapon protruded. The overall effect gave the ship the appearance of a great bird of prey. The frigate they guarded, however, looked less like a military vessel than a common freighter.

By this time, the _Vengeance_ 's entire complement of V-wings had deployed, spreading out to form a web in front of the cruiser. Below, visible from the command bridge, the V-19 Torrents of Aggressor Squadron rested along the flight deck while they waited for orders. Though Kallus could not hear the chatter in the fighter control bridge, he could imagine how loud it must be.

"Sir, we have an incoming transmission," one of the technicians called out.

"On the display," Durst ordered. The holotable display shifted, showing a Lasat female in regal attire. "This is Captain Durst of the Imperial cruiser _Vengeance_. We were dispatched from the Governor's headquarters in response to a distress signal from our installation in your capital city. We will begin landing a party shortly to investigate."

The Lasat female inclined her head forward slightly. "Welcome to Lasan, Captain Durst. I am Queen Rassala Eladarren. My envoy of Courdil Fighters is here to greet you—but due to internal circumstances, I am afraid any Imperial presence on Lasan would be inadvisable at this time."

"We have received credible information that war crimes have been committed against unarmed Imperial troops. We must investigate and—if necessary—punish those responsible."

"We are aware of the problem, Captain Durst. We are conducting our own investigation and will appraise you of the results once it is completed. In the meantime, the Empire's troops are not welcome on Lasan. We are graciously returning your men to you. You will find a transport in orbit which has on board all those who did not resist arrest. Take your men and leave."

 _What of the men who_ did _"resist arrest?"_ Kallus wanted to ask. _What did you brutes do to_ them _? Murder them like you did—_

Durst slammed his hands on the holotable. "You will investigate your own crimes? And I'm sure you will punish them fittingly," he scoffed. "That is unacceptable—"

"What is unacceptable, Captain," the Queen snapped, "is that your men have massacred my people and murdered my son. The soldiers who fired on the surrendered troops did so in response to what they perceived as deceptive tactics. Nevertheless, they are being court-martialed as we speak. If you have any further concerns, I suggest you contact the Imperial Senate."

"Begging your pardon, _Queen_ , the Empire will not tolerate these actions." Durst narrowed his eyes. "Your people resisted the Empire and attacked the Empire, and therefore the Empire must conduct its own investigation. We will not leave until _we_ have determined who is at fault and brought them to justice. If you impede our efforts, your actions will be seen as a hostile move against the Empire!"

"Lasan is a sovereign planet and I will not abide your continued presence in our system! If you wish to determine who is at fault, I suggest you look no farther than yourself."

"Then you are rejecting the Emperor's authority. And as the Emperor's representative in this system, I cannot tolerate this!"

The Queen closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, but her fists were clenched. When she spoke, her voice was soft—too soft. "I do not wish for further violence, Captain. Take your men and leave. _Now._ "

"We will leave—after we have brought you rebels to justice!" The Queen opened her mouth to protest, but Durst ended the transmission. "Fire on the fighters. And scan that transport."

All of the cruiser's batteries began firing at once as the V-wings closed the distance between themselves and the Courdil Fighters. The Lasats flew into evasive maneuvers, but were clearly caught by surprise. Through the viewport Kallus could see explosions as both Lasat and Imperial fighters exploded.

"Sir, long-range scans show Lasat vessels beginning to take off all around the planet," a technician called out. "I estimate over a dozen squadrons could attack us within minutes."

"Send in the Aggressors to deal with those in the air," Durst ordered. "And send in Dominator Squadron to take out their space ports and air defense systems."

In a matter of moments, the Torrents began lifting off and rising out of the flight deck and shooting toward the planet at maximum velocity. They were followed by the Y-wing bombers. As the Y-wings passed through the space battle directly ahead of the cruiser, the majority of the V-wings broke off from the fight and assumed escort positions around the Y-wings. The fighters and bombers maintained a close formation as they streaked toward the planet, dividing into elements just outside the atmosphere.

"Sir, fighter control reports that Aggressor Squadron is engaging the enemy in the atmosphere but meeting heavy resistance from surface-to-air weapons emplacements. Fighter control wants to know if their targeting priorities should change."

"Tell the bombers to target the weapons and the escorts to strafe the fields," Durst responded.

Kallus watched through the viewport as the space battle drew to a close. The final Courdil Fighter made a desperate run against the _Vengeance_ 's flank, shooting desperately at its starboard turbolaser batteries with its nose gun, which appeared to be a miniature ion cannon. The fighter took a direct hit from a turbolaser and burst into flame, crashing into the turbolaser battery with an explosion. Even though he was prepared for it, Kallus still fell to a knee as the cruiser rocked from the impact. Around him men tumbled to the deck.

 _These Lasats are not so tough when they aren't murdering helpless men_. Kallus' lip curled at the thought, though his moment of triumph was cut short as the creaking of the ship's infrastructure and the groaning of the men on the deck pulled him back into memories of helplessness and screaming and death. With a shake of his head, Kallus forced himself to regain his composure. By the time he regained his footing, the memories had fled.

"Status report," Durst shouted to an aide.

"All enemy vessels in our vicinity have been neutralized. We show minor damage to starboard turbolaser batteries from that collision and scoring all over our underside. Shields are at 86% and holding. Several turbolaser batteries overheated and require maintenance. Squadron 1 is down to 4 fighters, and Squadron 2 is down to 7, with one crippled but salvageable."

"And the transport?"

"Scans show life signs and no weapons."

 _"Life signs and no weapons"?_ Kallus furrowed his brow. _Either the Lasats were speaking the truth, or this is an elaborate ruse._ "Sir," he spoke up, "those life signs could be a Lasat boarding party. I advise caution."

"I concur, Agent Kallus," Durst responded with a nod. He turned back to his aide. "Tractor it into the port hangar but be cautious. It could be a trap." Durst looked over at Awlek. "Send a company of troopers and a scanning crew to meet it."

"Sir, fighter control reports that the fighting continues around the planet, but all fighter bases and missile emplacements in and around Lasan City have been neutralized. They report that we are clear to begin troop deployment."

Kallus allowed himself a smirk of satisfaction. His history with the Lasats had led him to expect that they would put up significant resistance, but clearly Imperial might was too great for them in space. If they kept the battle confined to orbit, the _Vengeance_ and its starfighter wing could easily quell the savages' uprising, at which point he could get on with his investigation on the ground. His heart sank. _The ground. Right._ Unfortunately, no matter how many fighters the cruiser destroyed, Kallus and the troopers would still have to land if he was to investigate these "alleged" war crimes. And no matter how many fighters the cruiser destroyed, his investigation would have to happen under fire from every savage on the planet.

"Bring us down into the upper atmosphere," Durst ordered, striding forward. "Keep us out of range of their air defense."

The cruiser shuddered as it turned into synchronous orbit with the planet and descended toward the atmosphere. Around the ship, Kallus watched as the remaining V-wings of their two escort squadrons formed a protective ring in case more Lasat fighters succeeded in leaving the atmosphere.

"Agent Kallus," Awlek said, turning to him, "get down to the hangar bay with the men. You and Lieutenant Lynch are to lead the initial ground troop deployment."

Kallus frowned. "Would it not be wise for me to remain up here until the base is secure? My mission is primarily investigation, not combat."

"The sooner you get your investigation started, the sooner we'll be able to leave," Awlek snapped. "Besides, I need your experience on the ground. Most of these conscripts are so shiny they've never even seen combat except in holovids. Aside from my brothers, you're the only soldier I have with any experience. I'm counting on you and Lynch to keep the men together until the rest of the battalion lands."

"Yes, sir." Kallus saluted, turned on his heel, and marched to the turbolift. The whole ride to the hangar bay, he couldn't shake the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Why couldn't the Lasat have accepted the Imperial presence and allowed him to conduct his mission? The Queen's statement suggested that she valued the sovereignty of her planet greatly, but was their sovereignty—over their Emperor—as valuable as the lives being lost? What were they trying to hide? The Queen implied that honor was an important part of the Lasat culture. If that were the case, would the Lasats have committed a war crime—firing on unarmed, surrendered soldiers? At the same time, this was not the first time Kallus knew of a Lasat doing just that. Perhaps the Lasats had committed the war crimes he was here to investigate. Perhaps the transport that Kallus could see being swept and cleared in the port hangar bay was intended as a poorly-rigged explosive device. Perhaps the stormtroopers being unloaded were going to report other war crimes across the planet, all of which Kallus would have to investigate. _Let's not get ahead of ourselves_ , he thought grimly. _Let's finish_ this _investigation before starting any others, real or imagined._

Lynch had already marshaled and prepared the first detachment of stormtroopers for their assault on the Lasan City compound. _This cruiser is so poorly equipped, we don't even have enough gunships to land the entire battalion_ , Kallus thought, groaning audibly. _We'll have to take and hold the compound with only a fifth of our force_.

"Lieutenant Lynch, are the men ready to go?" Kallus asked, stopping next to Lynch.

"Just waiting on you, Agent." Lynch nodded. He gestured to the gunships waiting in front of them. "Let's get loaded up, men. Those purple brutes won't wait on us forever!"

Kallus climbed into one of the gunships while across from him Lynch got into another. As soon as all the troopers had boarded the gunships, the loading doors closed and the gunships rose to a hover.

The pilot's voice came over the comm. "We just entered the atmosphere, but the air's still a little thin. These things are pretty good, but the air might get scarce until we're closer to the surface."

Kallus braced himself for the jolt as the gunship lurched forward, mentally berating the troopers around him who lost their balance when it came. He watched out the blast shields as the gunship passed through the atmospheric doors of the hangar. Around their gunship, the others followed suit. Above the dorsal blast doors, four V-wings held formation, waiting to escort the gunships into the city. Once the gunships were outside the confines of the flight deck, they formed up in a column, flanked on either side by a pair of V-wings, and dropped farther into the atmosphere.

Kallus tightened his grip on the handrail as the wind pushed the gunship around. The wind whistled through the open blast shields, but he continued watching as they rapidly descended toward the ground.

The lead gunship suddenly erupted in a ball of flame and plummeted toward the ground, but it took a moment for Kallus to register what had happened. "Missiles!" he shouted at the cockpit. In a moment the sky around them was filled with laser fire and missiles shooting up at them. "Take evasive action!"

The ship lurched and rocked as the pilots swung it back and forth, moving away from the rest of the formation as they did so. Around them, the other gunships did the same. In a matter of moments, their tight column became a churning bubble as the ships juked to avoid the incoming fire. Even still, another gunship took a laser through its wing. The pilot tried to compensate, but jerked sideways into a V-wing. Both ships fell out of the sky and crashed into the city block below.

Before the gunships could even regroup, Kallus saw a black mass closing with them from the other side of the city. As the mass drew closer, Kallus could just make out different shapes within it. "Incoming fighters!"

Over the comm, a pilot shouted, "Squadron 1, move to intercept. Gunships, dive." As one, the trio of remaining V-Wings increased speed to interpose between the gunships and the incoming fighters. And as one, the V-Wings fell to a withering barrage of lasers. Before the smoke had cleared, the first Lasat fighter flew through and opened fire on the gunships.

Larger than an ARC-170, the fighter had a cockpit slightly larger than that of the smaller Courdil Fighters. The ship's wings curved upward from the cockpit in a move reminiscent of a bird of prey swooping down to grab its prey. The tip of each wing ended with a sharp upward swoop wrapping around a tri-laser cannon which spat a continuous stream of lasers. In front of the cockpit, the open "beak" revealed a concussion missile launcher firing round after round of missiles at Kallus' gunship. Underneath the ship, a third tri-laser cannon added its own fire.

The gunship's blast shields slammed closed a moment before the first lasers impacted on them. Kallus reached up to grab hold on the handrail with both hands, just as the world turned upside down. He could feel the gunship turn through a barrel roll in an attempt to evade the incoming missiles. The gunship shuddered heavily and immediately listed to one side. Kallus closed his eyes as the pilot fought to keep the gunship under control. At that moment reports started coming in from the pilots.

"Three other ships have been hit!"

"Sir, one of the gunships is going down—it's the Lieutenant's ship, sir!"

Kallus groaned. Lynch was a good officer, albeit green. He didn't deserve this fate. Then Kallus started. Without Lynch, his former commission as Lieutenant technically made him the ranking officer in the landing party. _Great._

"What are your orders sir?"

"What is the enemy doing?" Kallus shouted into his comm.

"The enemy flew past our formation," the voice reported. "Scanners show they are not coming around for another pass. Their heading is for _Vengeance_ —they're not breaking off! They're going to attack the cruiser."

"Blast!" Kallus muttered. Taking a moment to compose himself, he said, "We have our orders. The cruiser will have to return to orbit until the attack has been dealt with, meaning that we're stuck on this rock. Pilots, take us to the compound as fast as possible."

"Yes, sir!" The ship groaned and shook as the pilot evened out and dipped lower. The wind pulled away a weakened blast shield panel. Through the slit Kallus could see the tops of buildings rushing past. Ahead, he recognized the command tower of the Imperial compound from the briefing. Surface-based laser fire still marked the air around the gunship.

"Pilot, take us down between the buildings!" Kallus ordered.

"We won't have room to maneuver!"

"We'll avoid the surface-to-air fire!"

"Yes, sir." The gunship descended lower until it was level with the roofs of the buildings. At that moment a smoke trail streamed out of a building ahead of them.

"Incoming!" Kallus tightened his grip until his knuckles were white, a moment before the gunship dropped. Even with the sudden maneuver, the missile still glanced off the right wing. The gunship rocked to the left, bumping into the building on that side and sheering off the wingtip.

"Brace yourselves!" the pilot shouted as the gunship rocked back the opposite direction. They were only a couple blocks from the ruins of the Imperial compound now. The pilot fought to keep the gunship level. They were only a meter above the compound walls, but they were losing altitude fast. A horrible noise filled the compartment as the gunship's hull scraped along the wall. At last the gunship dropped the remaining few meters to the ground, where it landed with a thud.

Kallus pulled himself up from the deck and checked himself. There was a slight ringing in his ears, but overall he was in one piece. Around him the other men in the squad were gathering themselves together as well. Kallus grabbed his rifle off the rack and hazarded a glance through the slit in the blast shield. The courtyard appeared to be deserted. However, just as he was about to test the door, the gunship was rocked by blaster fire from all sides.

"We need support down here!" Kallus yelled into his comm. Turning to the cockpit, he ordered, "Use the gunship's laser turrets to lay down cover fire. Target the largest concentration of fire."

"Sir, the starboard turret is jammed in place."

"Then fire in that direction until there's something there you don't want to hit!" Kallus retorted. To the other gunships he said, "Form a ring around our position. We'll use the gunships for cover."

Before he was even finished speaking, the rest of the gunships began landing around his own. He grimaced. Of the ten gunships they left with, only seven had survived the trip, and all showed signs of damage. One of the others looked even worse for wear than his, as both its gun turrets and half the port wing were missing.

"Pilots, check your ships' systems and be ready for takeoff the moment _Vengeance_ begins its return to atmo," Kallus ordered. "I want every operational gun turret laying down cover fire until I say otherwise. Only open inward-facing loading doors; we can use the outward ones for cover."

Kallus nodded to a pair of troopers to push open the gunship's doors. The first man out the door was immediately shot in the helmet and knocked to the ground. He didn't move. Kallus quickly guessed the trajectory and fired along it at one of the command tower windows. When there was no return fire, he quickly jumped out of his gunship and jogged to the one closest to him. "Sergeant, I need a casualty report."

"Sir, we have seventy troopers, but about twenty sustained injuries on the ride down. Most are still in fighting shape, though."

Kallus nodded. "Move the wounded to firing positions in the gunships," he ordered. "Have them concentrate fire on the Lasats inside the compound. Another squad will hold off the Lasats outside the compound. Send two squads to clear out the command buildings. As soon as the command building is secure, the rest of the men will fan out from this position to secure the walls."

The sergeant started working his way right to relay the orders, while Kallus did the same to the left. All the while Kallus kept a steady stream of lasers directed at the entrance to the command building, where most of the incoming fire seemed to originate. As soon as all the wounded men were situated to provide cover fire, Kallus gathered the two squads to rush the command building.

"Squad 1, clear the ground floor. Squad 2, clear the tower," Kallus ordered, pointing to the building entrance. "As soon as the building is secure, leave 2 snipers in the tower and move on to the other 2 buildings. Squad 1 will take the barracks; Squad 2 the garage. Now move!"

As the two squads charged out from behind cover, Kallus shouted to the remaining troopers, "Concentrate fire on those windows! Make sure those men reach the door!" He crouched at the corner of the gunship in front of him and added his own fire to the mix. He could see a stream of lasers coming from a window near the corner of the barracks; it had already knocked one of the charging troopers down. He sighted in on the window and fired twice. The laser-fire stopped momentarily, but when it resumed he had to duck the return fire. Staying low, he moved inside the gunship and pointed his rifle through a slit in the blast shield. Before the Lasat could adjust, Kallus shot twice more at the source of the laser-fire. This time it stopped for good.

By now the two squads had reached the command building and charged through the door. Kallus could see laser-fire through the windows for a few moments before it was replaced by nothing. Stray blaster fire blew out the few unbroken windows at the top of the tower. Kallus waited a couple beats but nothing happened. Finally the comm crackled.

"Command building secure. Moving to secondary objectives."

Kallus let out a breath. "Acknowledged." As the two squads charged out of the command building, Kallus nodded to the 2 squads waiting on the either side of the defensive perimeter. In unison the troopers focused fire on the remaining compound buildings until their companions were within steps of entering. Once the troopers were inside, the fire leaving the buildings ceased, and the remaining stormtroopers fanned out from the ring of gunships to clear the rest of the compound.

Kallus moved to the cockpit of the gunship. "Can the 2 most heavily-damaged gunships move?" he asked the pilot, gesturing toward them.

"Sir, the pilots estimate they can hover, but they can't lift more than a meter or 2 off the ground at the moment. It will take at least a couple hours before they can return to the cruiser."

"What of the cruiser?"

"Communication with the cruiser has been spotty, but it appears that they have fended off the Lasat fighters, though with severe casualties from our fighters." The pilot grimaced. "They did manage to knock out a couple of the cruiser's engines, so it will take some repairs before it can return to atmo."

"Ask if we can get some air support down here," Kallus ordered. "If those surface-to-air weapons aren't taken out, we're going to be stuck down here for a very long time."

"Yes sir."

Kallus looked up as the Sergeant jogged over. His helmet was scored and it looked like his armor had been dented in. When he slowed his pace, he limped.

"Status report," Kallus ordered with a nod.

The Sergeant saluted. "The buildings have all been cleared, as has the courtyard. The wall is broken down in several places, but the men are filling the holes as best they can. A couple are pretty big, though."

Kallus thought for a moment. He turned to the pilot. "Have the pilots move the two worst gunships to fill those holes," he ordered. "I want the gun turrets on mine to face out from the compound since they are still operational. That should give us time to find a more permanent solution."

"Incoming!" one of the stormtroopers shouted, pointing up. Returning Lasat fighters shot through the air only a few blocks from the compound, close enough to see a couple of them lower proton bomb launchers from their underbellies.

"Take cover!" Kallus yelled. "Any gunships facing that direction: fire your missiles!" He cast around inside the gunship helplessly, looking for anything that could damage the fighters. His hand found something. _Thank the Universe we got the T-7s_. he stepped out of the gunship, activating the T-7 as he went. The moment he was clear, he shouldered the weapon, aimed it for the closest fighter, and pulled the trigger. While the fighter dipped its wing to avoid the pulse, it still connected with the tip of a wing. The wing started pulsing and sparking erratically, and the fighter sharply dipped to that side. However, before it could crash into the buildings below, another fighter interposed its own wing and supported the crippled fighter past.

Kallus dove to the ground as bombs fell around him. He heard shouting in his comm. When he looked up, the garage was nothing but rubble.

"Sergeant Grum," he called, climbing to his feet and brushing himself off, "tell the men to use the remains of the garage to fill in the holes in the wall."

"Sir," the pilot called, " _Vengeance_ doesn't have much to spare, but they are sending a flight of bombers to deal with the surface to air."

"Very good." Kallus gestured to the other gunships. "Have all the flight-worthy gunships ready to leave the moment the bombers make their run. If you're not back with reinforcements within the hour, it may be too late."

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	5. Chapter 5

Zeb stood next to the Queen's side as she looked over the holotable in the Palace's war room. Reports came in from all across the planet, reporting destroyed Kite and Courdil fighters at every space port. Even cargo ships had been destroyed. Only the Queen's personal escort squadron, the most elite of the High Honor Guard's pilots, had managed to take their Kite fighters out and drive back the Empire.

"It's only a matter of time until they try another entry into atmo," General Bellum was saying, pointing to the display of the Imperial starship in orbit. "Their gunships don't look like they're spaceworthy, so if they want reinforcements, they'll have to try again. But we managed to take out a few of their bombers, which should save a lot of innocent lives if they get it in their heads to start bombing civilians to draw us out. We also severely damaged a couple of the cruiser's engines."

"Very good, General Bellum," the Queen said. "And the troops that did make it to the ground?"

"Only seven of their ships managed to land—but they still had enough men to clear the compound. They've moved the gunships into defensive positions." Bellum was silent for a moment. "We lost a lot of warriors today."

"How many?"

"Reports are still coming in, but there have been at least fifty casualties from our men on the ground."

"Fatalities?"

"Unknown."

"Captain Orrelios—what do you advise?"

"Their commander seems to know what he's doing," Zeb muttered, putting his hand on his chin. He straightened up and spoke clearly. "See how they've placed their gunships? They're making a barricade. If we can take out their forces at the compound before they've gotten trenched in, then they'll have nowhere to land more troops."

"What are your orders, Captain?" Bellum said.

Zeb gestured a path along the holotable. "Send in heavy speeders. I want at least a dozen of those men to be from the Honor Guard—they'll lead the way and clear a path for the others. Not that your men aren't as capable as mine, General," he added, with a smirk.

"No—you're right. A dozen elite soldiers with bo-rifles is just what we need. But thanks for your considerations of my feelings. It's very…unlike you."

"Well, I'm feeling a bit generous today, what with the invasion and everything."

Bellum grinned. "I'll deploy the speeders at once."

"I also want a full battalion behind the speeders. We can't let the Imperials get reinforcements. They've taken out way too many of our surface-to-air guns… _karabast._ Make sure you've got a platoon of men with rocket launchers and blasted good aim."

"Sir, yes sir."

"That's all, Bellum."

Bellum saluted the Queen and departed from the room double-time.

"Any word from the Senate?" Zeb asked, turning toward the Queen.

The Queen frowned. "Senator Channios has only managed to convince Senators Bail Organa and Mon Mothma of our plight. He was practically shut down on the Senate floor. He said there was talk of arresting him as a co-conspirator in our war crimes. That was the last I heard from him."

Zeb's shoulders slumped. "That's not good."

The Queen shook her head and sighed. "I was hoping there was some way we could placate the Empire politically in all of this—gain autonomy peacefully. That horrible Durst acted as though he was the Emperor himself, as if he could ignore the entire Senate and act on his own. Oh, but the Emperor _can_ ignore the Senate. It's one of his prerogatives, thanks to the people of the Republic cowing to his will." She scoffed. "All for salvation from the war. The Clone Wars never even made it to Lasan. Now war has come—war against our supposed great protectors."

There was a pause. Zeb wondered if he ought to say anything at all.

The Queen slammed a fist on the holotable. "Three years I abided the Empire's insults! Three years I tried to cooperate. And for what? To have my people massacred and my son murdered? We should have seceded from the Republic and joined the Neutral Systems the minute the Clone Wars began. It was my inaction that led to this. I have failed my people in every way possible."

"You haven't failed us, your Majesty."

"Yes I have. I have damned us all with my actions since Trazel's death. Look at the ruination one ship has brought us. Soon there will be more." The Queen's ears drooped. "Perhaps we should surrender."

"No!" Zeb bit his lip for a moment, realizing the disrespect of his outburst. "Begging your Majesty's pardon, we can't surrender now. They'll just kill us anyway—you know they won't see what happened at the compound our way. This is our moment to stand and fight. The people'll _never_ give into the Empire after what happened—not even at your word."

"Perhaps you are right," the Queen said. "But I hope that diplomacy can save us before more Lasat blood is spilled."

 _Diplomacy only gets you far enough to be killed unarmed,_ Zeb thought, grimacing.

"Is there something you'd like to say, Captain?"

"No, your Majesty."

The Queen narrowed her eyes for a moment. "Very well. I need you to stay here and supervise the situation. I am going to go speak with my daughters. They…they need me at a time like this."

"At your command," Zeb said, saluting. He watched as the Queen left the room flanked by her two Guardsmen, trying not to think of how heartbroken Trazel's sisters were.

He turned his attention back the holotable and clenched his fists. Trazel's death deserved vengeance, and Zeb's palms itched to deliver it. He longed to be out there, doing something, doing anything—anything but standing here in this command room uselessly, waiting for more reports to come in. But such was the burden of a commander, to stand by idly while sending men out to their doom in a real life game Dejarik.

Zeb shook his head. Even with all the preparation and honing of skills provided by their semiannual War Games, they were losing ground against the Imperials. And worse, this was no game, played by firing solutions and laser tags—real blood was being spilled. Real Lasats were dying.

His thoughts were interrupted by the chime of his commlink. He snatched it from his hip and held it up. "Orrelios."

It was Lahlin, who had been reassigned as one of Zeb's aides. "Sir, you're receiving a transmission from Havenil. Audio only."

"Patch it through," Zeb said, his heart jumping a little.

"Zeb?" Lucasta's melodic voice flowed through the connection.

"Lucasta. You made it."

"Yes, we're here, love. I contacted the rest of our families, and they should be arriving any minute now. You don't have to worry about us anymore."

Relief swept through Zeb. All of his loved ones were safe, out of the Empire's reach. Fear had been nagging at the back of his subconscious since he last spoke with his wife. "That's good news, love. The only good news I've had in this abysmal mess."

"Sir," Lahlin's voice interrupted, "I've just received word from General Bellum. The speeders are beginning their approach on the Imperial compound."

"I have to go, Lucasta," Zeb said. "Stay in Havenil until I send word."

"I will." Lucasta switched from Basic to the Old Lasat. _"In life or in death, bring honor to your people."_

The transmission ended, leaving Zeb feeling freed to focus on his purpose as Captain of the High Honor Guard.

He had to protect his people.

* * *

"Incoming!"

The moment the lookout in the tower shouted, Kallus looked up at the sky, expecting to see the Lasat bombers returning for another pass. It had been close to an hour since the gunships returned to the _Vengeance_ , and the skies had been clear ever since. Even now the skies were still clear; their last transmission from the cruiser said the gunships would require at least another hour's repairs before they could return with reinforcements. But there was no sign of Lasat ships anywhere.

Then, from the front gate: "Sir! Speeders from the palace!"

Kallus mentally kicked himself and took off at a sprint toward the front gate and the source of the shouting. It was only 15 minutes ago that they had finally filled in all the breaches in the wall and removed the damaged gunships from them so they could be put back to use. Even as Kallus sprinted to the gate, a trooper ran to meet him, gesturing back the way he came.

"The Lasats are coming!" the trooper called breathlessly.

"Blast," Kallus muttered. There was still so much to be done. _War waits for no being_. Even as he reached the man he keyed his comm. "Squads 1 and 2, stay at the front gate and keep them out. 3 and 4, move toward the front gate for support. I want only squad 7 at the other sentry posts; move squads 5 and 6 back to the command center in reserve. Move it, troopers!"

Kallus was still 30 meters from the front gate when it clanged out of its track with a scream of protest and fell forward as a Lasat transport speeder rammed through it. No sooner had it cleared the gate than its top-mounted cannon began firing at the command center and the side hatch flew open. Purple and blue Lasats poured out of the speeder like a dam had burst. Kallus had only a moment's warning to dive behind the cover of a disassembled gunship before a Lasat fired at the place he had just been standing. The trooper with him was not so lucky; he cried out as he fell with a charred hole through his chest. Kallus raised his blaster rifle to his shoulder and took careful aim around his makeshift cover at the Lasats who were charging his position. All thought of the larger picture—the troopers shouting all around him, the squads at the front gate firing outward, the Lasat speeder's cannon shooting over his head—disappeared in the haze of battle. A Lasat head was in his sights. He fired, and the head dropped. He shifted to the right. Another head; another blast. He was not moving fast enough; the Lasats had already covered over half the distance to his location.

Suddenly a wave of lasers met them from Kallus' left. His troopers had picked up on the action inside the compound. Three more Lasats fell to the ground under the barrage, and the survivors retreated to their speeder, which began swinging in wide circles around Kallus, his troopers, and the gunship. This gave Kallus a moment's reprieve. He looked back to the front gate, which offered the compound no protection. Through the opening he could see nothing but more transport speeders. The closest one was nearly to the gate, with a dozen more right behind. Thinking quickly, Kallus grabbed a T-7 disruptor from the gunship and activated it. The lead speeder was just to the gate. Kallus aimed carefully and fired. The speeder's momentum carried it a meter forward before it crashed to the ground, blocking the middle of the entrance. The speeders behind slammed into it with a crunch, pushing it forward another half-meter.

"Use the disruptors on the speeders!" Kallus shouted to the squads around him, throwing the one in his hand to the nearest trooper and reaching for another one. One squad ran to the gunship, grabbed the T-7s., and charged toward the gate. Kallus seized the final one just as the speeder circling them fired at the gunship. Kallus dove to the side, brought the T-7 to bear on the speeder, and fired. The speeder slammed to the ground hard, pushing the hatch slightly ajar. Kallus switched back to his rifle and moved away from the gunship's cover and closer to the disabled speeder, flanked by the second squad of stormtroopers. The hatch creaked in protest and buckled as the Lasats inside fought to open it further. There was a clang of metal as the catch snapped and the hatch flew wide open, almost off its hinges. The Lasats charged out, two at a time.

Kallus was far too close; one of the Lasats came straight for him at an all-out sprint. Kallus stepped back as the Lasat let out a terrifying roar and jerked his bo-rifle out to full length. The ends crackled with electricity. Less than 2 meters from Kallus, the Lasat swung the bo-rifle upward and brought it down sharply, his arms fully extended. Kallus had just enough time to hold his rifle up in front of his head with both hands to block the blow from crushing his skull. The bo-rifle's electrified end connected with the blaster rifle's trigger mechanism, which melted, dripping plastic and metal to the ground at Kallus' feet. The force pushed the rifle back until it almost touched his nose.

"Yield, Imperial filth!" the Lasat growled, his face centimeters from Kallus'.

"Not to a savage like you!" Kallus snarled back through gritted teeth.

"The only savage here is you, you honorless swine!"

The Lasat pulled back and swung the bo-rifle at him again from above, and Kallus blocked it again. Kallus stepped to the side, dropping the muzzle side of his now-useless rifle away from the bo-rifle and simultaneously swinging the butt up around the bo-rifle at the Lasat's head. The Lasat easily evaded the blow, using the momentum to spin himself around and lash out at Kallus again with his bo-rifle. Kallus dodged to the side as the Lasat stepped into him. Around and around they circled, probing each other's defenses. Kallus grabbed the rifle butt with both hands and swung it at the Lasat's head like a club. The Lasat ducked under the swing and jabbed Kallus in his chest armor with the end of his bo-rifle. Electricity coursed through Kallus' body, sending him tumbling backward to the ground. Kallus groaned and pushed himself up on one elbow, fighting away the pain of the shock. Electricity crackled, and Kallus looked up, down the length of the bo-rifle. The Lasat stood over him, the bo-rifle held vertically in both hands, its electrified tip less than a meter from Kallus' chest.

Kallus lifted his arm over his head, cringing away from the blow. It was not the first time a Lasat stood poised to kill him. He could still remember the hairy beast standing over him, blaster rifle aimed at Kallus' head, his entire squad lying dead around him, their agonized screams echoing in his ears. That time Kallus had pretended to be dead himself—even now he cursed himself for his cowardice—hoping the Lasat wouldn't check too closely. He would have no such luck today.

"Yield or die! I won't tell you again!"

"No, you won't!" Kallus retorted, kicking the Lasat's shin as hard as he could muster. The beast howled and leapt backward, startled. Shaking the memories away, Kallus kipped up to his feet, grabbing his useless rifle from the ground as he did so. The Lasat charged him again with a bellow, swinging his bo-rifle at Kallus' side. Kallus dodged out of the bo-rifle's range, even as the Lasat turned back toward him. He raised the bo-rifle and swung it back down at Kallus, who parried the blow aside with his rifle and used the motion to jab his rifle butt into the Lasat's side, knocking him back a step. The Lasat pressed the attack, swinging the bo-rifle and hitting Kallus in the left shoulder with his bo-rifle, just below the electrified tip. Kallus felt his left arm go limp and punched the Lasat's unprotected side with his other hand. The Lasat groaned and disengaged, pulling back a step.

Without a moment's hesitation, Kallus whipped out his blaster, pointed it at the Lasat, and fired three times. The first blast caught the Lasat in the side, the others full on in the chest. He fell backwards to the ground and lay prone for a moment, gasping. Kallus advanced toward him, standing just outside arm's-reach. The Lasat coughed and groaned before looking up at Kallus in shock and resignation. His bo-rifle was still gripped in limp hands. He looked down at the bo-rifle and then back up at Kallus. Finally he deactivated the bo-rifle, closing it back to rifle form. Kallus raised his blaster and backed off a step, angling his profile. However, the Lasat did not fire. Instead, he held it up with one hand toward Kallus, whispering something Kallus couldn't understand. Kallus took the bo-rifle from him, confused. The Lasat met Kallus' gaze and nodded sharply. Then his head fell backward limply, hitting the ground with a thud as his eyes closed.

Kallus was only dimly aware of the fighting around him as the troopers subdued the remaining Lasats. Bodies—both white-clad stormtroopers and purple Lasats—littered the ground in the middle of the compound. The other Lasats held a tight grip on their bo-rifles, even in death. Both the Lasat speeder and the gunship smoked from new scorch marks. But Kallus could do nothing for a moment except stare down at the bo-rifle in his hands and fight to regain control of his breathing as the last of his adrenaline burned away. _Why did the Lasat give me his weapon?_ Kallus looked from the bo-rifle to his own Imperial-issue blaster rifle, which lay on the ground in front of him. The blaster rifle was bent and misshapen in the middle from the abuse. The trigger and power pack were unrecognizable, nothing more than charred remains oozing fluid. Clearly it would never fire again. The bo-rifle, however, though obviously well-worn from repeated combat, had survived the battle mostly unscathed. The fine craftsmanship and care with which it had been constructed were evident in every polished surface. Clearly the bo-rifle was a powerful weapon, meant to take abuse and keep fighting. Though still unsure why he was doing it, Kallus slung the bo-rifle over his shoulder and turned his attention to the mayhem around him.

He had to keep his men together. He had to complete his mission.


	6. Chapter 6

The compound was in complete disarray. Troopers raced from one end of the compound to the other. Wounded men moaned all around. Two squads stood in a line in front of the gate, firing their rifles to cover for a third squad that was fighting to push the Lasat speeder out of the way.

"Stop!" Kallus shouted, running to the gate and waving his hands. The troopers looked up, confused. "Leave the speeder in the gateway and push it over on its side! Use the speeders as barricades."

Sergeant Grum nodded and started gesturing to the troopers around him. Before long they had the speeder wrestled into position blocking the gateway. At a command, the troopers pushed the mangled front gate up to rest atop the speeder, forming small slits between the speeder edge and gate to see and fire through.

Kallus looked around the compound. Much of the equipment in the command center had been damaged by the speeder's cannon. Why would the Lasats have attacked the compound and tried to destroy the command center unless they meant to destroy the evidence of their war crimes? As it was, it would take a miracle for Kallus to find any clear evidence from the compound system: half the computers were nothing but charred remains after three rounds of fighting. Unfortunately, Kallus could not afford to begin his investigation yet, since the compound was still unsecure. They needed to strengthen their defenses before the Lasats renewed their attack. And they needed more manpower to replace the troopers he had already lost.

 _So much death_ , Kallus thought, scanning the ground, littered as it was with dead Lasats and dead stormtroopers. _We came to investigate the deaths of 20-some troopers, and we've already lost 3 times that. Is it—_ Kallus stopped himself before he could finish the thought. _My duty is to my Emperor. I must complete his mission._

A squad of stormtroopers was sifting through the bodies, searching for survivors.

"Place the Lasats outside the compound for their people to reclaim," Kallus ordered with a wave. One of the troopers looked at the bo-rifle clutched in a Lasat's death-grip. "Let them keep their weapons if they didn't give them to you."

"But, sir," the trooper asked, "shouldn't we use their superior weapons against them?"

Kallus frowned for a moment. Finally he said, "Their weapons seem to be of some…cultural significance to them. We show our superiority by honoring them, instead of disrespecting them the way they disrespected our Emperor."

"But sir—"

"Get back to work, trooper!"

The trooper saluted and returned to his work.

Kallus shook his head. The trooper's insubordination was telling. The strain of battle was starting to undermine the chain of command. If this persisted, it could leave them vulnerable to the Lasats. Only by strengthening their defenses could they avoid such a danger.

Kallus looked back at the Lasat speeder as the troopers scurried to carry out his orders. The speeder had been substantially damaged by the front gate and the ensuing firefight. The odds of it ever working again were extremely low. However, the top-mounted turret appeared to have survived the battle unscathed. If these gun turrets could be salvaged, they would greatly improve the compound's defenses.

Kallus called Sergeant Grum over. "Send a squad out to salvage the turret cannons from the speeders we disabled. Then make sure those speeders cannot be used again."

"Yes, sir." The sergeant saluted and returned to the gate to carry out the order.

Kallus' comm beeped. The comm was open for all the stormtroopers to hear. A trooper from the command center said, "Agent Kallus, the _Vengeance_ reports that they are returning to atmo to continue landing troops. They're also going to send one of the heavy transports with a few of the walkers."

Kallus let out a relieved breath. "That's good news," he replied, "but our work just became more urgent. This compound needs to be secure before the gunships arrive. And we need to be ready, because the Lasats will not take too kindly to our receiving reinforcements."

Sergeant Grum jogged over as Kallus finished speaking. "Sir, of the dozen or so speeders out there, only about four cannons are salvageable. The men are stripping whatever they can and setting charges to destroy the speeders."

"Very good," Kallus replied with a nod. He pointed to the wrecked gunship and Lasat speeder billowing smoke in the middle of the compound. "Have a squad move those wrecks into a defensive line facing the gate and set up the turrets behind the line. We can use that as a fallback position when they return."

Sergeant Grum saluted and returned to his men, barking orders in his comm as he went.

Kallus took another calculating look around the compound. A squad was moving Imperial casualties into the area where the garage had been, ready to be loaded back on the gunships to return them to the cruiser. He could just make out the 2 snipers still acting as lookouts in the control tower, though the gaping holes in the building's ground floor suggested that it could collapse at any time. If they lost the tower, they would lose a critical advantage. Unfortunately, there was nothing Kallus could do at the moment. The barracks had survived mostly unscathed, though there were some fresh scorch marks still smoking. The wall surrounding the compound had certainly seen better days. When they had arrived, it was mostly intact; a few gaping holes had been blown through it and the gate was swinging off its track. Following the Lasat counterattack, entire sections of the wall resembled a pile of rubble more than anything else. Though it still offered them some meager protection, it would never pass an inspection by Imperial Command.

Two squads of troopers approached Kallus' position by the wrecked vehicles, carrying parts from laser turrets. Sergeant Grum led the way. "Squad 2, move the speeder into position; Squad 4, do the same with the gunship. Let's move it, troopers!"

Grum stopped next to Kallus to watch the troopers rush to carry out their orders. The gunship proved the easier of the two to maneuver as its engines could still lift it almost half a meter off the ground. Before long it was in position with its open side hatch facing the front gate. A pair of troopers stayed to repair the turret pod on that side of the ship and direct it toward the front gate. The rest of the squad went to help the others with the speeder.

The speeder, however, was completely fried. Almost every electrical system had shorted out when the T-7 hit it. The engine would not start, so the troopers had to manhandle the vehicle every centimeter of the way into its proper position. Finally, with help from both squads as well as Kallus and Grum, the speeder was positioned with its nose butting up against the gunship's cockpit.

"Set up the turrets behind the ships and stagger them slightly," Kallus ordered. "I want them firing over the tops of the ships and covering the entire approach."

As the troopers began to set up the turrets and secure the bases to wreckage scavenged from the garage, Kallus' comm squawked. "Sir," the trooper monitoring communications said, " _Vengeance_ reports that they are deploying the reinforcement convoy. Gunships and transport with V-wing escort. E.T.A. 15 minutes."

"Look alive, men!" Kallus called out. "Those turrets need to be secured and operational before they arrive. Squad 3, come over and assist in securing the turrets."

While Squad 3 assisted the other 2 squads in preparing the turrets, Kallus jogged over to inspect the gate. The wrecked speeder left very little space on either side, which the troopers had filled in with rubble. The speeder itself covered the bottom half of the gate opening, up to Kallus' shoulders. Between the speeder's irregular side and the original gate there was a slit just wide enough for a blaster rifle's barrel, allowing the troopers guarding the gate to fire out without exposing them to the Lasats' fire. Through the opening, Kallus could see the building where they had left the Lasat casualties. None of the bodies remained; evidently the Lasats had already come by to collect them. With a glance over his shoulder, Kallus checked on the Imperial casualties lined up in the remains of the garage. _Will they be returned to their families? Will their families get to bury them?_ Kallus thought back to the gunships that went down over the city during their entry. Were there any survivors from them? In the heat of battle, he had not been able to consider that possibility. Even during the moments between battles, he had been too busy preparing for the next wave to think about poor Lynch and his men. Kallus couldn't imagine anyone surviving a fall from that height, especially from the first two gunships shot down. Lynch and his gunship? That could be another story, but Kallus certainly couldn't spare the manpower to scour the city for the wreckage. And even if the gunship had come down intact, by now there couldn't be anything left; the Lasats surely cleared out whatever was salvageable, and who knew about the bodies?

 _Lynch didn't deserve this_ , Kallus thought. They weren't exactly friends, but Kallus still regretted his death. Lynch was an enthusiastic, if inexperienced, officer who deserved to die in the heat of battle, not in the wreckage of a gunship.

 _So much death and destruction—and for what?_ Kallus thought, unable to keep his thoughts from drifting back to his earlier musings. _Two dozen troopers were allegedly killed after surrendering. We lost more than that on our_ landing _! Why are we—_ Kallus shook his head. This line of thinking was unhelpful before, and it was not helpful now. He was here because his Emperor wished it, and his duty was to serve his Emperor. That was the bottom line.

"Sir!" the shout came over his comm, breaking Kallus out of his reverie. "The gunships are 5 minutes out!"

"Battle stations!" Kallus ordered. "Double the lookouts in the tower! I want a squad on each side scanning for enemy combatants! The rest of you, form up at the redoubt and deploy the T-7s. I want all of you scanning the skies for those fighters!"

Troopers rushed around, grabbing rifles and running to their firing positions. Kallus joined the 3 squads clustered behind the cover of the gunship and speeder. Sergeant Grum was already passing out T-7s. Troopers checked power levels and sighted in the rifles. Other troopers manned the turrets and turned them upward. Kallus pulled the bo-rifle's strap over his head and hit the power. It felt strange in his grip, as though it was intended for someone with much larger hands than his own. Around him he could see troopers' helmets turning in his direction, though none of them dared question their commander's choice of weapon. Inwardly, Kallus wondered himself why he was still carrying it. He could have taken another Imperial rifle, but the bo-rifle—and the thought of the Lasat who gave it to him—kept him from doing so.

"Ships on the horizon!" one of the lookouts called.

"Search the sky for enemy fighters!" Kallus ordered, looking up himself and turning in the direction of the enemy palace complex.

"Enemy fighters inbound from the east!" a lookout reported. "Closing fast! They'll reach the convoy at the landing point."

"Prepare T-7s," Kallus shouted to the troopers around him. "Fire as soon as they are in range."

Kallus could hear the engine noise of the approaching ships a moment before the Imperial convoy was visible over the tops of the buildings. The dozen ships were arranged with the 6 V-wings leading the way and 5 gunships surrounding the bulky transport at the heart of the convoy. The V-wings had already placed several ship-lengths of distance between themselves and the rest of the convoy, giving themselves a cushion to confront the approaching Lasat fighters.

Four Lasat fighters came into view an instant after the Imperial convoy. From the ground, the upward swoop of their wings and open-beaked nose gave them an even more aggressive profile. Their wing- and belly-mounted laser cannons already whirred as they prepared to fire. Though they were still out of range from the ground, Kallus lifted his arm, signaling the troopers around him to acquire targets. Only a dozen meters closer and they would be in range.

Everyone fired simultaneously. The V-wings fired on the Lasat fighters, whose shields absorbed the blasts. The Lasat fighters fired a volley of concussion missiles, followed by a continuous stream of lasers, which disintegrated the V-wings in a flash. Kallus' troopers fired the T-7s and turrets just ahead of the Lasat fighters, but Kallus knew they were too late the instant the order was given: The moment the Lasat fighters had fired, their had engines kicked into overdrive and pushed forward with a roar and a crack, whipping them up and over the Imperial gunships and transport well before the T-7s' ion beams had traveled even half the distance. Kallus spun around to watch for the Lasats' return pass.

That second pass never came.

Instead, smoke blotted out the sun as missiles shot up from all around the compound. Because the gunships had their attention focused entirely on the fighters, the missiles took them completely by surprise. Two of the gunships managed to evade most of their missiles, though each still took a hit. One was hit on its wing, spun over on its side, and dropped the remaining 10 meters to the ground. Of the other three, one lost both wings and a turret to missiles and dropped like a rock. The remaining two gunships maneuvered directly into each other, clipping their wings even as the missiles connected with their hulls. The pilots fought to regain control of their gunships, but they landed together, tangled up in a heap. The transport's shield protected it from most of the missiles, but a couple still impacted the hull, peeling off paneling that tumbled to the ground around Kallus' position. The transport's landing gear failed to deploy, and the pilot set it down in a controlled crash between Kallus and the control center.

"Target the source of those missiles and fire!" Kallus shouted into his comm. The troopers rushed to comply, and in a moment the surrounding buildings were pockmarked with fresh laser scoring. No more missiles appeared, but they had already done their job.

"Blast!" Kallus muttered under his breath, running over to inspect the wreckage of their "convoy." The Lasats' starfighters were giving them a powerful advantage in the sky, one the Imperials could not overcome. Of the 12 ships that had come to resupply the compound, none had emerged unscathed. The 6 V-wings had been obliterated almost instantly. Of the 5 gunships, 1 looked to be a total loss, while the other 4 would need some level of repair before returning to _Vengeance_. Kallus took some comfort in that fact: at least they could try again to get reinforcements.

 _But what about the men they sent? How many survived?_

"Check for survivors," Kallus ordered the troopers around him, "but I want 1 squad still scanning the skies in case they return."

Kallus and a couple troopers wrestled the doors open on one of the gunships. It was overfilled with troopers, all of whom were crumpled on the floor. Kallus allowed himself a small sigh of relief when a few of the men stirred, lifting their hands to block the glare from the sun. Kallus turned to the men with him. "Help the injured out, but leave the dead in place for return to the cruiser. And get these gunships repaired!"

Around the compound, troopers pried the gunships open and helped the reinforcements to disembark. The transport's loading ramp lowered most of the way, but a pair of stormtroopers had to blast the hydraulics apart to lower it fully. Captain Awlek and his Brother Squad descended the ramp first, followed by a dozen other squads, several speeders, and a pair of AT-OT walkers. Kallus nodded approvingly. The armored units would give them a tremendous advantage when the Lasats renewed their attack, and depending on how many troopers survived the hard landing, their numbers had tripled.

"Sir," Kallus called, jogging over to Awlek and saluting, "glad you made it in one piece." When Awlek acknowledged the salute, Kallus added, with a gesture to the compound around them, "Welcome to hell."

"What's the situation, Agent?"

"As you know, the lieutenant's gunship never reached the compound, so I took command. Sergeant Grum and I have secured the compound and reinforced it as best we could with the men at our disposal. Hopefully, with your reinforcements we'll be able to fully secure the compound against their next attack."

"I sure hope so," Awlek replied, pulling off his helmet and looking around the compound more analytically. "These new helmets are such useless things. If only they'd let me keep my _old_ one!

"Before we can do anything else, we need to send the convoy back to _Vengeance_. We brought enough parts with us to repair the ships well enough to get the out of atmo. _Vengeance_ returned to space, but the pilots have breathers for the return trip. With a couple more supply trips, we should be able to deploy the rest of the battalion and the remaining walkers."

"Agreed." Kallus nodded. "If the last rotation is any indication, two open-tops and a couple hundred troopers won't be enough to hold off the Lasats if they _really_ decide to kill us."

* * *

"I was afraid of this," Zeb muttered. " _Karabast."_ He massaged at the stress and pressure forming in his temples. "Despite our efforts, they've completely trenched themselves in. We'll have to launch a full-scale assault if we're going to get the better of them. Whoever's commanding them is no fool." He looked up from the holotable. The Queen stood at a distance, masking her expression with a hand over her mouth. "Anything new from the Senate?"

"Nothing good," the Queen said, lowering her hand and crossing her arms. "I have completely lost contact with Senator Channios. Senator Organa has assured me he and a small group of others are doing everything in their power to plead our case—to make the rest of the Senate understand the full situation here. Perhaps with enough votes, they can sway the Emperor's opinion."

Zeb scowled. "That seems overly optimistic, Majesty."

"Indeed. So I have been making arrangements for the worst possible scenario. Chieftain Tarfful of the Wookiees has promised me they are willing to send us aid if we need it. They will provide defense ships as well as transports for planetary evacuation."

"Planetary—your Majesty, you can't be serious!"

"We have already underestimated the Empire once today, Captain Orrelios. Once more Imperial cruisers arrive, things may grow more dire. I simply wish to be prepared in case the Empire decides to repeat yesterday's massacre on a planetary scale."

"Not even the Emperor would wipe out a whole planet."

"Would he not? Do you know this for a fact?"

"I—no. But evacuation—running—it's not our way. The _B_ —"

"Do not bother explaining the tenets of the _Boosahn Keeraw_ to me! I know them all. I value honor and our Warrior Way as much as you do, Garazeb. I am not for a moment suggesting we give up and flee this very moment. We _will_ fight to the end—but if that end comes, the _Boosahn Keeraw_ states that innocents must be saved. This is how I am going to ensure the innocents are saved."

"Of course, Majesty. Forgive me."

"In the meantime, we must make a second attempt at peace with our adversary before we wipe him out."

Zeb twisted his mouth.

"Ah, so there are only certain parts of the Warrior Way you find worth following," the Queen said, with a smirk.

"Never, Majesty. The Way's my life. I just don't think these Imperials'll make peace with us."

"One never knows. I doubt Captain Durst is commanding these ground forces. Perhaps if we send our Ambassador to explain things, the commander on the ground will reconsider. Things often go more smoothly in person."

"And if they don't?"

The Queen scowled. "Then we will strike down every Imperial who sets foot on our sacred home. We will fight to the end, whatever the end may be."

* * *

 **Authors' note: Thank you so much for reading! We would love to hear your feedback. Please leave us any thoughts in the reviews. Unfortunately, this fanfic is going to be on hiatus for the next two months or so. I (n00btmntfan) am busy with working on editing an original work of fiction to be published this November, so fanfic things are put on hold temporarily. If you are curious about my novel, check out my profile bio for a link to my blog. Thanks again! Peace!**


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